Complications
by LostHeroGuide
Summary: She was a quiet, different kind of girl. She had a plan, a boyfriend, a job... Even if it wasn't the best life, she treasured what little she had. But now its all crashing down around her, and the simplicity of her future has just been overtaken with unseen complications. She thinks he wants to help clean up the mess he'd left her in, but can she let him? Abused, but ready to heal.
1. Three Weeks

**Hwy Guys! New Story, new fun! I'm taking a little bit of an extended break from _The Marauding Demigods_ and have moved to this story, which I've been pre-writing for almost two months. I hope you like it!**

 **Disclaimer: I am not Rick.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

 _(Three Weeks)_

Annabeth thought that, although the school administration had been clever, they had not been smart. They'd opted for turning the commons area, the huge, two story entrance to the school, as the main room for nearly every event.

The main doors opened into it, the counseling and main offices opened into it. Six hallways, like two widespread V's jutted outwards, along with two extra second story hallways overlooking the commons and an extra hallway that split into the auditorium and band rooms.

On top of that, even the library sat straight across from the main doors and into the commons. It was a superhighway, forcing all students from Freshman to Seniors, to walk through one place in the school everyday. It was like blood pumping through a body, always returning to the heart of the building, clogging and blocking progression.

To make it even worse, with all the students the school had to accept, they had to have two lunches. Two extra reasons the halls were clogged. It made Annabeth sick, watching an open area like that, with their school symbol all scratched up and useless. The skylight above sent a glaring light down onto her, hurting her eyes.

Her school was loud, it was full of irritating people, and lunch wasn't fun anymore considering all her friends had graduated the year before.

She couldn't even look at her lunch.

No, really, if she kept staring at her Mozzarella sticks, she was going to throw up (yesterday's) breakfast.

Her stomach twisted and turned, threatening to lose itself and reject what little food she'd been able to stomach for the past week. Nothing, _nothing_ had been going Annabeth's way. Not since the breakup, not since the party- life in general wasn't going her way.

She wanted to say that she was devastated. That her world was being flipped upside down and tossing her a curveball that she had no way of hitting. That these feelings, these emotions- they could all be new.

But no, that wasn't the case. The truth was, is, and always will be that nothing good ever stuck around in Annabeth Chase's life. Not her mother, not her boyfriend, not her best friend- nothing lasted forever.

For someone with this kind of backstory, where nothing good _stayed,_ you would have thought she'd learned. But no, Annabeth Chase still craved what eluded her. Still searched for what she might not ever find: Permanence. Belonging. Acceptance.

Luke had felt like that. He'd been a fixture in her life since middle school. Her rock. She thought she belonged at his side. She wanted to be there. It wasn't a case of 'being in love with being in love'. It was real, what they'd had.

Or, so he'd led her to believe.

But she should have known, she should have seen the signs. She was a Senior in high school, he was a Junior in college. He was in a different state, on a different side of the country. She'd supported his early admittance to Stanford, hadn't she? She'd sacrificed her precious few hours of sleep, trying to achieve what he had? To get out of high school early, get an early acceptance into an Ivy League university?

She'd worked towards permanence. She'd sacrificed for it.

Why couldn't he, the boy she gave so much to, do the same?

He hadn't even flown back. He hadn't even _pretended_ to be sorry. It wasn't a call, it wasn't an email, it was a _text._ Not even from him. Gosh, if he would've just spoken to her…

She heard the bell ring for fourth period, but she didn't move. She didn't react. It's not like she enjoyed Accounting. It was just another class. Another Stanford brownie point.

Would she even be attending college now?

She didn't have an answer for herself. Instead, she stood from her table (the one everyone avoided) and tossed her lunch in the garbage, not even saving the apple like she'd always used to.

She tried in vain to rub the sleep out of her eyes with her sweater sleeves, sighing quietly when all it did was blur her vision. The light concealer she'd had on smudged, but it wasn't like anyone would notice. It's not as if the computers in Accounting didn't shine right through the makeup. It wasn't as if anyone cared.

A shiver went down her spine when she felt like she was being watched, and she knew it wasn't just a feeling. She shouldered her backpack, trying not to shiver at the idea of _him_ watching her.

She walked to the end of the cafeteria, about to climb the stairs, when her ADHD won out. Her intuitive mind and curious nature always made her wonder, ' _why me? Why stare at me?'_ He never gave her an answer, because she already knew it. He _knew_ she already knew it.

Bright, burning green eyes, like some sort of unnatural fire made contact with her own cloudy irises. Dark, midnight black hair that might as well have been its own living entity, seeing as it didn't seem to stay in one direction. Scruffy, stubbled chin that looked far from recently shaved. His mouth was set in a straight line, and Annabeth wasn't sure if he was trying not to smile or frown. She wasn't sure which she would be more scared of.

He didn't look away from her gaze. He never did, and she didn't expect him to now. It always left her feeling unsettled, however. Today wasn't an exception, in fact she felt worse than before. A new churning began to develop in her stomach. She knew she wouldn't be able to control it, just as she knew she couldn't hide it. Not from him.

Not like how her skin was pale instead of its healthy, tan glow. Not like how the lavender bruises under her eyes grew with each passing morning, threatening to give her away.

He just watched, stone faced, as she ascended the stairs and took a sharp left in the direction of the her next class.

…

Accounting was, as stated prior to her by what few friends she'd had before they'd graduated, the closest thing to an easy A the school could give. The teacher wasn't passionate about his subject, the assignments were always both online and open, and he made all the tests open book, seeing as the classes final was open book as well.

Don't misjudge her, Annabeth was not one to reach half-heartedly for the easy A classes. She actually enjoyed a challenging class every once and awhile, though in Senior year those were hard to come by. In all reality, she picked it because, no matter how hard the math classes tried, they didn't teach the actual, hands-on day-to-day tasks math performed. A class that taught life lessons would be beneficial.

Yeah right.

Because of the open assignment concept, she could, and _would,_ finish every unit ahead of schedule. The problems were easy, and it was all about matching and memorizing definitions. Child's play.

She hated that the teacher had only _one rule,_ and how it seemed to only ever apply to her. No one could leave class early. She could finish the curriculum weeks in advance and would still be forced to sit shoulder to shoulder with her peers.

The tables were inadequate in size, and the monitor's combined heat rolled off in waves towards Annabeth. It made her sweat, it made the two wrestlers beside her stink, and her stomach would churn constantly. Most days she only showed up for the participation points and to avoid the phone call that her father would receive. She couldn't risk her Ivy League scholarship going to the girl or boy with the spotless attendance record.

Then again, would she be going to college still? Her situation changed things, didn't it?

Her stomach rolled unexpectedly, and her head began to pound as a migraine formed behind her eyelids.

She raised her hand, waiting patiently for Mr. Dion to notice her raised hand. When that didn't work, she coughed lightly, trying to make him look up from his wine magazine.

He sighed as Annabeth coughed for the seventh time, laying his magazine in his lap. His tone was bored, and the bags under his eyes rivaled hers. "Yes Ms. Chan? What is it?"

Annabeth huffed internally. "It's Chase, sir. Not Chan." She said. "May I please use the restroom?" She asked, trying to not get up and rush out without his permission. He pondered this, blinking at her slowly and deliberately. He sighed again, shooing her away with his hand.

"Be back before the bell rings, Ms. Chaz. Unless you want to be marked truant." He warned.

Annabeth nodded in acknowledgement, swiftly standing up and sliding quickly out the door, snagging the hall pass off the wall as she went.

...

It's hard, trying to look unbreakable when you're hunched over a toilet bowl and retching. Annabeth tried to stay quiet, hoping that no one could hear her. She tried to muffle the noise, and luckily no one else was in the bathroom, but people hear. The walls, the lights, the tile floors: they all had ears. Anyone could hear her, passing by the bathroom.

Annabeth hiccuped quietly, trying to keep the outbursts from going past her throat. Her retching ended, but these horrid noises always tried to force their way out, threatening to expose her. To tell the world her secret.

And it was a bad one. It wasn't what reflected who she was on a regular basis, though the circumstances that the secret had occurred on weren't normal either. It had been an extreme lapse of judgement, completed with insecure feelings and unknown intentions. But no one would see it that way. No one would believe what she said could be true. She had made a mistake, and social norms would blow it out of proportion.

So she sucked up her courage, tilted her chin up and tried to keep the nausea from completely controlling her life.

She stood up from the cold tiles, trying not to let the numbness that had seeped into her pant legs bother her. She flushed whatever remained down the toilet, removing whatever evidence that there was. As she left the stall and washed her hands, she couldn't even look her own reflection in the eye.

' _You made a promise to yourself, Annabeth',_ the voice in the back of her head said accusingly. ' _You couldn't even keep a promise to_ yourself'.

She dried her hands with the paper towels, promptly throwing them away. She briefly considered, as she stood outside the bathroom, if she should even return to class. She only had ten minutes before she could swap one prison with another. Surely Mr. D would be too 'busy' reading to pay her any attention.

Was she even going to college anyways?

She shivered suddenly, that stupid feeling going through her sweater and giving her chills that travelled up and down her arms and snaked down her spine, clutching and tugging on her navel and the small of her back at the same time, as if the feeling was trying to slowly tear her in half.

She didn't understand why, but her arms instinctively crossed over her abdomen as she hugged herself close, only finding comfort in herself. That's all she had now. Herself.

But as she turned her head to examine her other option- leaving school early -her body froze.

He stood far past the end of the hallway, out towards the open commons, his hands propping the door to the counseling office open. She couldn't make out the defining details besides his black clothing and dark demeanor, but she new, beyond any doubt in her mind, that he was looking directly at her.

He made her mind up for her. His very presence was not a comfort, and she had the distinct feeling that she should stay away. Fight or flight situations passed through her mind, daring her to try and skip class now. So she avoided confrontation, choosing to turn away from danger and seek the shelter of her class. He was a predator, a lone wolf. He didn't enjoy numbers larger than three. He wouldn't dare confront her in a classroom setting.

Still, those eyes as bright as green fire ghosted at her back as she walked back to class. She clutched her arms tighter to her body, cradling her womb.

…

She was at work, in the bathroom, her hands shaking as she sat in the stall. She was lucky that this Thursday was so slow. They had no new releases at the movie theater, and in accordance the crowds had begun to slow down. Not to mention, the snowy and unpleasant weather prevented others from making the journey.

So, when she'd been cleaning the bathrooms furthest from the front doors, she'd slipped into a stall with her hidden cargo in her pockets. Three plastic strips. Three life changing, life destroying tests. The first tests that she'd ever wanted to fail. But no, her period was late and she _knew_ that something was wrong. The nausea she'd been feeling all week wasn't just the flu. It had to be something more.

She took each test, setting them on the toilet paper holder and waiting, her leg bouncing in anxiousness. The stall walls felt as if they were closing in on her, and the silence usually broken by customers wasn't present. She felt panicked, her heart pounding in her chest. She had to physically hold her arm down so as not to check her watch. She tried counting backwards in her head from one hundred, but even that was too much for her overwhelmed mind.

She knew it. Since the first time she'd begun losing her lunch. Now, however, it was different. It was never going to be the same ever again. Her hand rested on her stomach again as her fears were confirmed.

There was a bundle of cells, building and forming inside of her. There was an actual, not yet living being in her stomach, and within nine months, it was going to come out…

She stood slowly, making her way out of the stall. She had to blink back her tears, trying to appear okay before walking back out into the open. She looked at herself in the mirror, unshed tears trying to leave her eyes. Her unsteady hands gripped the granite counter for support.

She threw each test away, covering them in paper towels and shoving them towards the bottom of cart she was pushing around before. She started walking again, out into the hallways and towards connsetions. The idea of taking a shift there in ten minutes was hard to swallow. Maybe quitting now, before anyone began to even remotely suspect, would be a good idea.

It wasn't like she would need the money now, right? Was she even going to college?

She didn't have an answer, but her planned future didn't seem bright anymore.

She pushed her cart along, keeping her head down as she neared the cleaning closet. Her concessions shift was about to start.

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	2. Five Weeks

**Hey Guys!**

 **So, glad to know this story has some support... those who follow and favorite this, thank you! really, I love the support and I'm glad that you enjoy this story so much.**

 **These little beginnings will get longer later on, but until then, I just want you people reading to understand how much fun it is to write for you. Thank you, for this opportunity.**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not Rick.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

 _(Five Weeks)_

Home life was as follows:

1.) Be out of bed before they wake up.

2.) Make them a good, full breakfast before they could scold her about how it wasn't prepared upon their awakening.

3.) Do nothing outside of the home that could be used as punishment within the home.

4.) Never show up at home after them. They will inevitably be waiting to punish her inability to keep the house clean.

5.) Get homework and dinner prepared.

6.) Retire before they are finished eating.

7.) Pray to whatever gods exist to spare her anymore pain the next day.

Annabeth followed her own rules religiously. She gave her father and step mother no ammunition besides what her own birth had given her. If she were the perfect daughter on the inside, doing what most grown ups could do for themselves, then she could prove that she was better than them.

Some days, the fact that they ignored her was considered a blessing. She could go days without speaking at home, and it gave her time to think. Sometimes, she thought about the little things she had, like her Stanford worthy reputation and her boyfriend. Other times, those thoughts were… Unyielding. Weapons of her own mind. But besides those few times, she could describe the silence as comforting.

Though, silence didn't always last. Sometimes it was yelling. Things being thrown at the walls, or in extreme cases, her. The concealer that she kept near by wasn't just for the bruises that had begun to form under her eyes. Her father was expressive when angry, and her stepmother even more so. A bruise or two on her arm, or perhaps on her face were not uncommon. Some weeks it was a regular occurrence.

Her twin stepbrothers made everything just the slightest fraction of an inch better. They were not like their mother and father, antisocial and boisterous, and Annabeth didn't look the gifted horse in the mouth. They were kind, and gentle, and so loving. Whenever they had issues with their homework, they asked _her._ Not their degree-bearing parents. _Her._

That was a victory, she supposed.

But today, she was late. Today, she'd had to cover a shift at the movie theater she had not counted on. She didn't have dinner ready, and her parents would be back in twenty minutes. As she ran into the house, throwing her backpack to the top of the stairs, she rushed to the kitchen, in an effort to avoid punishment.

But fate was _not_ on her side. Nothing ever was.

Her father sat at the table, a book in one hand, a notebook in the other, and a newspaper laid across the table. Pens and pencils were scattered around the house, and it was as if he was their king. They accumulated to him. Instead of ten scattered over the counters or on top of the fridge, they were around his feet, on the newspaper, in the binder spine, behind his ears… A mess of disorganization.

Her step mother wore a dark red lipstick and nail polish to match. Her dress was a purplish color with white lotus flowers adorning the fabric, and it did look beautiful on her. The problem is that she knew that. Her hair was done up in a bun, and her eyes and mouth were screwed into a sneer, as if Annabeth being late was both expected and a daily occurrence. It made a spark ignite in Annabeth's chest, wanting to catch her off guard and let it burn through her.

Annabeth was frozen in the doorway of the kitchen, shocked and scared because they never got home early. Annabeth could set her watch to their punctuality. Helen stood, her palms upwards and loud voice echoing off of the hardwood floors. "You see, Frederick dear? No respect, no telling us where she was or when she would be home." She began. "Where were you, young lady?" She asked.

Annabeth flinched under their combined gazes. She didn't like the looks they gave her. "Well? Answer your mother, Annabeth!" Her father said, also joining his wife standing. That seemed to be the only thing they would both stand together for: punishing her.

She feebly held her hands out, her fingers intertwined in a childish way, and she couldn't stop her stuttering from spilling out of her mouth as she tried, in vain, to pronounce her words fluently. "I-I-I wa-a-as-"

Helen stepped forward and smacked her upside the head. Her facial expression was one of both fury and impatience, and her yet Annabeth winced as if the Devil himself stood before her. She ducked her head, trying to avoid that gaze. It was the casual nature that the beatings took that really scared her. That kept her up at night.

Well, among other, more pressing trials in her life.

"Look at me when I speak to you, young lady!" Her father said sternly, his voice rising with each word. She quickly straightened up, but her tense shoulders wouldn't lower, and her father's face tinged red. "Now, explain to us in _clear, complete sentences,_ where you were tonight." He said, frustration clearly guiding his sarcastic jabbing.

As Annabeth went to open her mouth, Helen began to shoot out questions rapid-fire. "We're you in detention? Did you fail an assignment or test? Was it a boy? It was, wasn't it? You're just like your whore mother." Helen sneered, and Annabeth felt another open palm smack against the back of her head. Annabeth felt her stress building. The fire in her chest was slowly spreading, causing a panic.

She tried to speak, tried to get the words to tumble out of her mouth and give her tormentors what they wanted, but no sound left her mouth. Hot tears pricked at her eyes instead, and when her father saw his red face went darker. "It was a boy, wasn't it? Answer your mother! Tell us where you were!"

Annabeth was finally able to squeak, mostly out of panic. "It wasn't a boy!" She answered shrilly, her voice going an octave higher and cracking. "Reyna looked under the weather and my manager sent her home. I covered her shift-"

"Stop lying to me, Annabeth!" Her father yelled, stepping closer. He grabbed her outstretched wrists into one of his hands, holding them tightly and squeezing them together until Annabeth could feel the combined pulses of her wrists beating erratically against her own skin. She cried out, as if his touch burned her. His red face went purple, and his hand came up.

The smacking was repeated over and over, knocking into her cheeks and making her whimper in pain. She tried to turn her head as the hand hit, minimizing the blow, but Helen held her head still by her curls, keeping her prisoner. Her father gave her a dozen marks to each side of her face, and Annabeth finally tore herself away from Helen's grip on her hair and Fredrick's grip on her wrists, though his nails left scratches on the exposed skin.

She backed up, her tear filled eyes shifting from her father, to her stepmother, and back to her father again. She brought her hands up, as if to shield herself from their wrath, but she knew that it would be in vain. She would always be subjected to their anger, no matter how hard she tried to get away.

"Call them if you don't believe me! I swear, it wasn't a boy! I didn't do anything!" She pleaded, still backing herself up. Her feet hit the bottom of the stairs and she fell backwards, her shoulder blades making contact with the carpeted stairway.

They got closer. The kitchen light disappeared behind their combined silhouettes…

 _Ring! Ring! Ring!_

Fredrick Chase looked down at his cowering daughter, then turned back towards the kitchen. Helen only sent her a much darker glare, taking a step towards Annabeth. She held up a single perfectly manicured finger, her dark, almond shaped eyes staring into Annabeth's grey orbs, large and wet with images tears. "One more time, young lady. If you're late again, I throw you into the streets like I should have done years ago." She seethed.

Annabeth didn't wait for Helen to retreat back to the kitchen. She barely nodded, acknowledging what she'd said. Then, she turned and began to sprint up the stairs, taking her backpack as she went. Her room, the furthest down the hall and wedged beside her parent's room, wasn't much. But it provided protection from them. Her thin walls and metal deadbolt were the only things stopping a drunken fist some nights.

She laid her backpack by her bed, the only ornament inside of the barren room, and then chucked herself into the mattress. Quietly she hugged her pillow, and quietly the tears fell from her eyes.

Escape was impossible. She'd tried running away, but she always ended up either back where she started or in the back of a police car. Those officers didn't question the bruises, they didn't offer assistance. She couldn't blame them: she was a lost cause.

Her sweater rode up her stomach, exposing her midriff. Her hand fell to her stomach, and really, that only made her tears run down her face faster. She tried in vain to stem the flow with her shirt sleeve, but that soaked through faster than she thought it would. She wanted to sob, but then her parents might hear, and they would remember that they had unfinished business to attend to.

She wished Thalia still lived close by, but she'd moved on, and she'd taken her brother with her. Frank and Hazel had opted to study abroad, backpacking Asia. Selina and Beckendorf: living in Chicago together. Rachel was in her finishing school, Piper in Malibu with her father, Leo living in Texas.

How is it that all of the people that she cared about, her group that told each other everything in Freshman year, suddenly evaporated by Senior year? How was it they'd all moved on and she'd been left alone, left to suffer? Perhaps it was just her luck. It was destiny, telling Annabeth that she wasn't meant to get any farther on in life. She was stuck.

Her closed fist clenched the pillow tighter, and her hand over her stomach rubbed a single, soothing circle over the flesh. What little muscle that had once been there had dissolved, and she knew that it was happening. That she would be showing and that even her biggest sweaters would soon run thin.

She closed her eyes tightly, thinking about how her parents would react.

Would she even be attending college? Was that still going to be part of her plan? Could she escape them with the money she had in the bank and the scholarship offers she'd receive? If she received any, that is.

Why was her life such a mess?

* * *

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	3. Eight Weeks

**Hey Guys.**

 **Sorry it's been a while. First my computer died, then the Wifi, then I had Graduation, and a _marriage,_ and... it's too much. Really, it is. I'm glad I've pre-written this story, tho. Makes it a bit easier to post, huh? Anyways, hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer:** **I'm not Rick.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

 _(Eight Weeks)_

He sat at the back of her Mythology class, watching her, and she knew it. She could feel his gaze like a spotlight, causing her hairs to stand on end and body to tremble lightly. He's causing her stomach to twist in guilt and fear instead of nausea and pain, and she can't decide which feeling hurts worse than the others.

He knows. She's certain that he knows, and it scares her. Part of her wants to scream at him, right here in the middle of their Mythology class. She wants to let out all the stress and pain and anger she'd been feeling since she first began suspecting, but people surround her. People can hear her if she yells, and then they'll spread rumors. Rumors about the girl with no friends and the boy who spent most of his time in juvenile hall.

So on the off chance no one suspects, and that he is oblivious, she remains silent, listing off gods and goddesses that she wasn't sure existed and putting them into paper. If they did exist, they must've decided she was unworthy of a decent chance in life. She felt like putty being stretched, and if she broke no one would squish the pieces back together.

Everything aches. Everything hurts, everything is in pain, and nothing gives her comfort. Her work is relentless, pushing her past her breaking point as her manager, a skinny pale boy named Octavian, gives her more shifts and denies the few days she asks off. She knows she works more than her co workers, and that they will not give her any sympathy if she asked.

A sudden need to relieve herself overtook her, and she squeezed her thighs together. Slowly, she raised her hand.

The teacher, a kindly old man confined to a wheelchair (and enough spirit and energy for three healthy men), didn't even look up. He simply waved his hand, a grin playing on his lips. He seemed to think it was funny that his student needed to use the bathroom every twenty minutes. "You can go, Annabeth." He said.

She nodded, quickly stepping out of her desk and trying to slow herself down. She didn't want to lose all of her dignity, running to the bathroom like a pathetic Freshman. If anything still mattered, it was the fact that she could walk out of a room before speeding to the facilities. Besides, it would be suspicious if she had to run to the bathroom.

So she left the room, pretending she couldn't still feel his gaze following after her.

…

She wiped her hands onto her jeans, trying to get rid of the water the school's empty paper towel dispenser had failed to remove. She had thought for certain that it was full when she'd entered, but ten minutes and about a dozen Sophomore girls later, Annabeth had to wash her hands without any way to dry them. She sighed, wondering why it was always her.

As she left the bathroom, still cursing her horrible luck, she heard his slick, airy voice stab through her back like an icicle, spreading a chill down her back and causing her to freeze in place. The smell of salt and chlorine hung heavily in the air. Her heartbeat began to skip lightly.

"You know, it's my fault." He said.

Annabeth felt her breath sharpen. Her mind began racing through possible means of escape, but coming up short. His very presence was like an EMP, a pulse ripping through her skull and taking away her ability to think clearly. She heard his converse against the linoleum floor, slowly getting closer.

"I mean, it is, isn't it? I struck up a conversation and I didn't stop myself when I should have. I guess that's on both of us, really." He said. His footsteps echoed closer, and with each step she flinched slightly. When he spoke again, she could feel his breath on her neck.

"Now I understand it was a mistake. Just… We're so different. You're the girl with the Stanford future. I'm the guy _without_ a future. We both kept going and one thing led to another… And I'm the one that got you into this mess." He said.

He was suddenly right in front of her, and she couldn't meet his eyes. She wasn't going to look into the fire, because if she did she'd lose her vision. She'd lose all place and she'd get wrapped around his finger. She'd end up getting deeper into trouble than she already was. In an effort to at least seem unafraid, she spoke.

" _I'm_ the one in the mess now. It doesn't matter what you did: I have to take the punishment for it." She said, her voice coming out much quieter than she wanted it to.

Annabeth was only a few inches shorter than him, and with her shoulders as hunched as they were his mouth was level with her eyes. It was hard gauging his reactions with only a mouth to go by, but Percy Jackson was an expressive person. If she could avoid his eyes for the rest of the conversation, she might keep a clear head.

"You could've gotten rid of it." He whispered under his breath, his mouth turning down into a gentle frown.

Annabeth felt a shiver go down her spine. Ice rested against the small of her back. "No. Not an option." She said, still sounding rather small in the open hallway. She worried that someone might walk past, or overhear their private conversation. She couldn't let her secret out. She couldn't let anyone know.

His mouth didn't move, but his chin nodded up and down in silence, as if she'd just given him a satisfying answer. "It would've saved you a lot of trouble. Someone is going to find out eventually." He said.

"I know you've known for a few weeks. Why talk to me about it now?" She asked in a whisper. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear out of nervous habit, and when her hand accidentally landed on her stomach, she could feel his gaze linger there.

"I wasn't sure what you were going to do. If you were going to keep her…"

She gulped. He'd just acted like he cared. He just gave his child a title. A gender. She wasn't sure where he was taking this conversation, and she didn't want to follow. She needed to get back into class. She had safety in numbers. He wouldn't talk to her if she surrounded herself with others.

She tried to walk past him, ducking her head and taking a diagonal step to his left. Her shoulders hunched further downwards, as if she were a turtle trying to hide in its shell. That scent, the mix of salt and chlorinated water, invaded her nostrils as she tried to escape.

His strong hand gripped her forearm, effectively stopping her from leaving. When he spoke something else entered his voice, and it made Annabeth's eyes drift upwards. Past his set jaw and semi-crooked nose her eyes met his, and she couldn't move away to save her life. "Wait." He said quietly, not loosening his grip on her arm.

As if she had the chance to get away now. There was something about his eyes that held her captive. The swirling blues and greens, like a shifting ocean, spiraled into her own grey eyes. For the first time, she realized that his skin was _not_ the same shade as it had been nearly two months before. His hair was a much darker shade compared to his pale, blood-drained complexion. His eyes really did appear fire-like, burning his insides hollow.

She understood the feeling. She felt like fuel being added to that fire. She was being consumed by him.

"It doesn't have to be your problem, you know. You can give the problem to me." He said, his voice gravely even.

For just a moment, her mind did not comprehend the severity of his offer. She almost took him for an idiot, because if he thought he could hide a baby bump in some bigger clothing and call it good, she truly wouldn't just regret meeting him on New Years Eve, she would find him utterly repulsive. Perhaps that would be okay, with the possibility the look in his eyes would lose significance.

But she'd seen the intelligence he held. The way his demeanor and posture gave himself away. She felt a cold claw grip her heart, causing her erratic heartbeat to nearly stop altogether. Was he really suggesting what she thought he was? Was this some sort of lie, or trick? He couldn't be serious, could he?

Could he?

Her silence must've been evidence enough of her hesitance towards his proposal. He spoke again, and an urgency slipped into his voice. Borderline panic, probably, but she'd never seen that emotion displayed on him before.

"I know that you want to go to Stanford, Annabeth. I know that you're waiting for the acceptance letter to show up." He said unnecessarily. Of course she knew that he knew that, she'd _told him_. She'd told him everything that night, and she regretted it even more so, seeing as he was trying to tempt her with that information. "I know that… the baby could cost you your dream. I know if anyone knew, you'd be stuck here."

She put her head down, averting her eyes and trying to get her heart to beat in a semblance of regular pace. Her mind was reeling, telling her that he was right. "You're blackmailing me." She whispered, trying to make sure her voice wouldn't crack. The emotions running through her system were of both joy and hope of relief of this burden, but anger and frustration and confusion at the idea of her giving up her child.

Even if it was to the father. Even if it was to the boy who listened to the girl with nothing.

He winced, as if she'd just hit him. He gazed around them sharply, as if worried the empty halls would hear their words and expose them. When he turned back to her, his eyes had dulled slightly, less of an inferno and closer to the last embers of a camping fire. Warm and cozy, ready to cook marshmallows on, but still just as dangerous. His eyes still held the potential to hurt her further.

Suddenly his hand, the one that wasn't gripping her arm, disappeared deep into his pants pocket. Annabeth felt her confusion growing, and it only mounted further when he pulled out a slip of paper. Gently, his hand that was gripping her arm loosened until his rough, calloused palm was trailing down towards her hand, barely ghosting over her skin. His touch left goosebumps, and her breath hitched.

He carefully unwrapped her fingers, unmaking the fist that had formed with him being so close to her. He laid the paper in her open palm, then closed her fingers around it until he held her full fist in his own. He squeezed her smaller hand quickly, immediately relieving the pressure and letting go of her completely. "Go to this address at eight o'clock in _exactly_ two weeks. I'll be waiting for you there." He said.

He walked past her, taking with him the intoxicating smell of an ocean breeze and something she couldn't quite place. Something she'd recognized when she'd first began speaking with him. As he walked further down the hall, away from their shared class, the fuzzy haze that had set over her mind began to clear. Her scattered brain began to fully form into actual trains of thought. The problem was, even after he'd left, her thoughts were not her own. They'd been hijacked by _him._

He'd just spoken to her. He'd just acknowledged what he'd done to her, and for some reason he was offering her an escape of some sort. He was offering her a way out.

But how do you escape a pregnancy? Percy seemed adamant that she keep the baby, at least for now…

What was he planning? The very idea that he'd give her a second glance after she'd left him the morning after was a shock to her. She thought, for sure, that he would only be coming after her for more. Still blackmailing her, but for different, more despicable reasons.

Annabeth looked down at the paper still crushed in her fists. An unknown address. A location that she wasn't sure she wanted to even visit. With a shiver, she realized that maybe he still _was_ after more. That this could be a place she could get hurt.

He might have just walked away, but her heartbeat wasn't slowing, and her breath was still too quick to be healthy. Her mind was spinning with unanswered questions. Was it worth the risk, going to this address? Was it worth the risk, keeping the baby? Could Percy even genuinely want to help? Did he want to be a father, this early in life? Was he going to put her up for adoption, or give her child away? How would his parents react? How would _her_ parents react?

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to shut her over functioning brain off before she'd get a migraine. The last thing she needed was a pounding in her head while she puked into a toilet. Undoubtedly, she'd have to do _that_ again.

It all boiled down to one question: did Annabeth trust Percy Jackson?

She thought it over and over in her head, working out what she really wanted the answer to be. Any boy, even Luke, would've lost her trust in the instant they didn't stop her. If Percy had just stopped her, or if she'd stopped him (he'd asked so many times) then this would never have happened. She'd still be invisible, and he'd still glance over her like he always had.

Why, oh why had he approached her that night? Why couldn't he have minded his own business instead of finding her, crying her eyes out in the bedroom?

She felt like she wanted to cry right now, in the middle of the hallway, outside of the restroom. Her closed fists trembled, and quickly she wiped her eyes to keep from tearing up.

Was she even going to college?

According to Percy, if she trusted him, she would.

Annabeth opened her palm, looking at the slip of paper in her hand. The ink had stained her hand, and she took it as a sign. Everyone she knew had left a stain on her. Percy would be no different.

She shoved her fists into her pockets, then started to walk back to her class. When she entered, people barely glanced up, just like they always did. As she sat, she noticed Percy's seat remained empty. She was grateful for that, she supposed. She didn't need him breathing down her neck, trying to sway her decision.

She took a shaky breath, picking up her pen and writing where she'd left off.

* * *

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	4. Ten Weeks

**Hey Guys!**

 _ **Unit jason,**_ **here is your early update. Know that the gap between chapter one and two were due to technical difficulties that could not be foreseen or avoided, so I apologize! I usually do weekly updates, but I'm updating another story today and thought that I might as well update this one as well.**

 **I'm glad that you're enjoying this, and please drop a review! I really do appreciate the support! Some days I only start writing because of you guys!**

 **Oh! Someone asked if there are any good Percabeth Pregnancy stories, and I can honestly say that I couldn't find that many. and I didn't really think they were that good, I guess, either. Kind of why I wrote this.**

 **Disclaimer: I am not Rick.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

 _(Ten Weeks)_

Her own body started turning against her, as if the alien nearly an inch and a half long in her stomach was trying to be noticed. It wasn't showing quite yet, which was fine with Annabeth, but their were… Other changes that wouldn't stop threatening to reveal her secret.

Her morning sickness (which didn't only happen in the mornings) got worse. Barely two days after her talk with Percy, Annabeth woke up in the middle of the night and relieved her stomach without warning. She had jumped from her bed, covers tangling her legs, and smashed face first into the carpeted floor with a _Thud!_ She reached her garbage can and avoided a real mess, but then her father had woken up.

He'd banged on her door loud enough to wake her step brothers, demanding she unlock her door and let him in. She'd finished letting the contents of her stomach leave, and she'd tried to convince him it was a stomach virus. She'd cowered in the corner of her room, blanket pulled up to eyes, just waiting for him to break down her door by force and beat her senseless.

He'd paused, then she'd heard his footsteps retreat back to his bedroom. She'd nearly cried in relief, but then sleep had overcome her and she'd curled up on her floor, the adrenaline rush leaving her body and her energy giving out. She'd woken up feeling horrible, and she'd had the urge to skip school for the first time in years.

Her favorite pair of jeans, the ones that still fit from Sophomore year, wouldn't go past her hips. She'd frowned, settling for a slightly larger pair, but her growing anxiety was lurking at the back of her mind, threatening to expose her. She had switched from her favorite t-shirts to sweaters also, but she guessed that soon enough those would fail her as well.

Another pressing cause of her anxiety: it was mid-March. Acceptance letters from colleges were beginning to appear. NYU, Columbia, Yale… All of them were offering her a place. Columbia was even offering her full ride, which had come as a surprise, but also made her smirk. It had felt good, being wanted _somewhere._

Still, Stanford was holding her captive. She wanted to go there so, so badly. Whether Luke was there or not, she would face that when the time came. She just… It was the college her mother and father had met. The place they had fallen in love, at least for a while.

Then they'd had her, and it had all fallen apart.

Annabeth shivered involuntarily, not wanting to unearth the skeletons inside of that particular closet. She decided to focus more on where she was going, and how it might connect to Percy Jackson.

She'd debated for those two weeks he'd given her, trying to decide what his intentions might be, or why he would want to help her. After much consideration and thought, she'd come to the conclusion that he simply felt guilty. He was going to apologize profusely, then maybe offer her some money for the trouble he was causing. She must've misinterpreted what he'd said before, and the meaning behind it. He wasn't going to help her. Why would anyone help her?

Still… She'd decided to follow up with him. She'd weighed her options, along with his, and understood that he could, and might even feel obliged to offer some sort of aid. Really, she'd accept a bottle of painkillers from the boy. Normally, her pride would blow up to the size of a blimp and tell her she didn't need him. That she could do it all on her own.

But that was the catch, wasn't it? Percy Jackson was an exception, of sorts. She'd only met him once and decided to let him see her fully. To be with him in a way no one else had ever been, and to ignore any rational thought. Not even a sip of alcohol had entered her system that night, but she'd made a decision she thought she'd only ever make while drunk.

So she'd give him the benefit of the doubt. She'd show up, listen to whatever offer he had, politely accept whatever he offered, then she'd leave. She'd never see him again besides the occasional once over in the hallways. He'd be free of his guilt, she'd have to give up her dreams of college.

The cab she was in began to descend past the fancy high rises with glass paneled buildings and symmetrically shaped designs, beautifully designed. She went over the Manhattan bridge, into Brooklyn. It was a strange, far place to go from her Upper East side two story house, and she felt her teeth go on edge. Why was Percy making her go so far from home to meet him? Surely, he didn't live this far from their school?

Still, they traveled farther south, into the depths of Brooklyn and into rows upon rows of apartment buildings. She felt like she was in some sort of twilight zone, and she was just going to keep going and going, until eternity passed by her. Her cab driver, a scruffy, skinny guy with a cigarette hanging lazily unlit out of his mouth, offered no comment. His radio was a hiss of static, and caused Annabeth's head to sting.

Finally, at 8:02 on the dot, the cab began to slow. She took in her surroundings, trying to fully comprehend why Percy Jackson would want her here.

The buildings were next to skeletal, without any walls or ceilings to be seen. They rose out of the ground like disturbed coffins, eaten away and decomposing. The metal was rusty and the pavement was covered in potholes. There were ten visible light posts, but they only sparked and flickered in the dying light.

Annabeth shivered when the cab reached a complete stop. ' _This is the kind of place you get shot over pocket change',_ she thought worriedly.

Before she could tell the cabby that she wanted him to take her back to where he picked her up, Percy materialized from the shadows of the nearest building, walking toward the cab in a blue hoodie and jeans. His eyes locked onto hers, his breath visible in the cold night air. She shivered again under his intense gaze.

The driver saw Percy coming closer, and the unlit cigarette in his mouth tilted upwards in what she assumed was wariness. He gave Annabeth a backwards glance. "Friend of yours?" He asked gruffly, then coughed as if he'd been taking a pack a day. Annabeth cringed just hearing it.

She took a deep shaky breath, reaching for the door handle. "You could say that." She said, opening the door and letting the cool, end of winter breeze into the vehicle. As she got out, Percy reached the sidewalk. He nodded to her in greeting, but didn't say anything to her. Instead, he opened the side door to the cab. He reached into his hoodie's pocket, handing the driver a small stack of cash.

"That should be enough for you, and then some. Do yourself a favor and forget you saw me." He said. His eyes took on that inferno again, the green irises flaring wickedly at the cab driver.

Annabeth was a bit shocked by the way Percy spoke to the driver, and maybe it scared her as well. _Forget you saw me._ She didn't like the way he wouldn't make eye contact with her, either.

The cab driver however, nodded quickly, not even bothering with counting the money or giving Annabeth a second glance. Instead, when Percy closed the cab door, he sped off in a cloud of exhaust fumes that caught what little light illuminated the street.

They stood their for a moment, neither speaking or willing to move. She watched him, waiting for to say anything to her. He simply stood still, looking in the direction the cab driver had left, not offering to break the night's silence. Annabeth was just the slightest bit annoyed, especially since his hood was up and she couldn't see his face. All she could see were a few locks of his black hair, matching the night sky perfectly.

Satisfied, he nodded to himself. By what, she could not tell, but when his eyes met her again she lost the will to ask. Her boldness caught in her throat and he simply gestured towards the nearest building. "Walk with me." He said, not really phrasing it as an order but not giving her any other choice, either. As he began to walk she followed behind, not quite walking beside him but closer behind him.

He took her around the block, under the half lit lights and away from the address he'd given her. She quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. She mostly kept close attention to her surroundings, trying to distinguish shapes within shadows. She wondered briefly if they hid a gun or a knife, poised to kill. Judging by the tenseness of Percy's shoulders, she couldn't tell.

They rounded the corner, and still Annabeth thought it was a miracle she was even alive. Then the sleek outline of a black Charger popped out to Annabeth, the streetlight above it shining brightly. Percy didn't hesitate in bring out his keys and unlocking the doors. "In. Quickly." He said, still not phrasing it as an order. When he held the shotgun door open for her, she didn't hesitate to slide in. Even his voice seemed to leave her hypnotized, not giving her a choice to back out.

His engine was surprisingly quiet for a muscle car. The rhythm was a steady purr, and in the car with the window rolled down it blended in nicely with the silence of the skeletal neighborhood. For just a moment, she was reminded of a long drive Luke had taken her on, all the way to Long Island…

"How late can you stay out tonight?" Percy asked suddenly, shattering her illusion and bringing her back to reality. Her head snapped to his face, but he kept his eyes on the road.

She'd left out dinner for the twins, and her parents were attending a benefit tonight at one of her father's college buddy's work. They'd said they would be home later, and that the house had to be clean. Annabeth had cleaned before leaving, and if they got home before midnight tonight… "Eleven." She said, feeling more put together now that his focus was split between her and the road. "I need to be home before my parents get home, so eleven. Midnight at the latest." She confirmed.

She saw his gaze travel to the radio clock and back to the road. He licked his lips in concentration, and Annabeth could see the gears turning in his head, doing some sort of equation to accomplish whatever task he had in mind but still have her home in time. Finally, he nodded to himself. "That should be fine." He said.

Annabeth turned her attention back to the wind in her hair and the passing buildings that framed the neighborhood. Without meaning to, she let out a breath she had been holding. Judging by his questions, he was planning on getting her home before the night was over. He was planning on letting her live.

' _Of course he his,'_ her mind chastised, ' _he kept talking about the kid, so why would he want to hurt It, or me for that matter?'_ She asked herself. She didn't think of an answer, but that was to be expected when Percy Jackson was involved. He was a popular gossip, and the rumors flying around about him made him seem infamous. Immortal. She was stupid to think he would kill her.

That didn't mean that she wouldn't still be cautious. ' _Stranger things have happened in this city…'_

Soon, they left the skeletal structures and dimly lit streets behind, and traded them with buildings that were actually complete. Apartments and warehouses crammed beside one another, with signs for real estate agencies and agent's smiling faces. The harsh yellow streetlights above casting a constant shadow over their car, giving Annabeth the impression that this city would never truly sleep.

Finally, Percy pulled of to the side of the road, ducking the car into what appeared to be a blind alley between two apartment buildings. The walls alongside them were identical classic red brick, and the fire escapes above them were of black, glinting metal. In essence, the buildings were new and ready to be occupied by whoever would want to live in the middle of Brooklyn. At the end of the alley was a blue metal dumpster, and chain link fence lay beyond that, with another identical dumpster beyond that. A mirror image that was only missing the two teenagers in the black Charger.

Percy wordlessly parked and cut the engine, turning off the headlights and leaving Annabeth under the dull, harsh glow of a built in wall light above them. He crossed over the front of his car, opening her side and offering his hand. She took it reluctantly, allowing him to help her out of the car. When Percy spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper and his gaze was intense. "We should only be here about an hour or so, if even that, okay? You can't breath a word of this to anyone, you hear me? Have you told anyone about… You know?"

Annabeth kept her lips shut tight, shaking her head slowly and deliberately. In all actuality, there was no one to tell. Annabeth was alone, undoubtedly until even after the pregnancy was over. Her friends were scattered across the country, and keeping contact with them had been inconvenient. She couldn't risk going over her phone plan, because _she_ was paying for it. Minimum wage wasn't getting her far financially.

Percy nodded, then took her hand in his, leading her towards the edge of the alley. He peaked his head out from around the brick. "Good. That's good. Let's keep it that way, at least for now." He asked, his voice both surprisingly gentle and still brokering no argument. He looked both ways in what she assumed were empty streets, but he must've been less certain. The feeling of her smaller hand in his left a part of her brain going numb.

He gently tugged her along, keeping her close behind him and still trying to seem invisible. He seemed to be crouching slightly, putting one foot in front of the other in quick, deliberate movements that were hard for her to follow. Eventually he noticed, and slowed down until she was more comfortable. He led her along the sidewalk and past identical windows. Closer inspection of the building revealed that Annabeth had been wrong. This was some sort of office building.

Percy pulled her along until they reached the front door. He put her between him and the entrance, his shadow falling over her and making her feel small. There was a call button on the side of the wall he was leaning on, and he inspected each white plastic button before pressing the third one down, carefully. Annabeth was certain this building was unoccupied, and that the electricity and water weren't on, but there was a single buzz that went out as Percy took his finger away, and he spoke into the speaker off to the side.

"It's Percy." He said quietly, his eyes on constant patrol of the street around them. Annabeth thought she was paranoid, but Percy's caution was setting her on edge. She wasn't sure what kind of secret had to be kept hidden in an office building, but she guessed it wasn't _just_ about the pregnancy. "Let me in."

He let go of the button, briefly looking back at Annabeth before resuming his patrol of the roads. His secretive actions were making her anxious, and the fact she was wedged between him and the glass door behind her without even room to breath wasn't helping. "Percy." She whispered, trying to get his attention without shattering the stillness that seemed to matter so much to him. When he didn't respond, she repeated herself a bit louder. "Percy."

He seemed to snap out of whatever trance the road had entrapped him in. His eyes made contact with hers and his full attention washed over her like radiation, heating her to the bone. The inferno in his eyes settled back down to what it had been two weeks ago in the hallway: a glowing bed of embers. For just a second, Annabeth thought she saw another emotion flash in his eyes, but she dismissed it. It couldn't be. Not really.

Still, the softness of his voice left her both confused and worried, though his words were clear cut and to the point. His gaze searched her face, his eyebrows furrowing together in a way that made it look like he had a unibrow. At first he didn't say anything, as if searching her eyes would get him an answer. When that failed, he spoke. "What's wrong?" He asked.

She took a shaky breath, then shifted her gaze over the street. There had been no traffic since they'd gotten there, whether that meant people on foot or on the road. The streetlights were harsh and bright, casting shadows whenever they flickered. She saw a stray cat cross from her side of the street, then duck into an alley on the other side. "What are we doing? Why did you bring me here?" She asked, whispering again.

He didn't speak. Instead, his gaze seemed to switch to suspicion, which just left her even _more_ confused. Then, like a switch had been flicked in his head his gaze was soft again. She felt like she was under a microscope, being poked and prodded for a reaction of some sort. "It's safe here, I promise." He said, as if seeing her fears displayed in her eyes. "I won't let anything happen to you, or her, okay?"

There it was again. _Her._ As if he knew the gender already. As if he _cared_ what the gender would be. Annabeth felt another shiver go down her spine, and she folded her arms in an attempt to disappear from his gaze. The air was slowly getting chillier, and her simple clothing wasn't helping her stay as warm as she would've liked.

Percy looked like he wanted to say more, to explain something to her, but he was cut off by a harsh metallic buzzing. Annabeth heard the door lock click open, and Percy wasted no time holding the door open for her. She nodded to him in thanks, wordlessly entering the office building, his warm hand guiding her by the small of her back. Percy did one final inspection of the road, then closed the door behind him.

Annabeth had very little time to see the lobby as Percy led her along. He'd taken her hand in his, pulling her in the direction of the elevator. She'd only had a moment to glimpse the lobby, lit only by the streetlights on the roads outside and filtered through half closed shutters. Sofas still covered in plastic, a coffee table with a thick layer of dust settled on it. The carpets were a dark blue, and the walls bleached white. There was a secretary desk to the side of the entrance, but it seemed no one had touched it in years.

There were a few vending machines tossing some bright, white lights that contrasted the yellow ones outside. They hummed, as if content with where they stood. Annabeth wished she had their confidence. As Percy stopped, he hit the call button for the elevator that was across from the machines. She could hear the lift begining to descend, and she wondered who else was in the building. Who else had used the elevator in the past few hours? Percy gave nothing, besides his anxiousness, away. His foot tapped against the carpet below him.

As the elevator opened, Percy ushered her inside, his hand again moving to the small of her back. The fabric might've been between their skin, but she felt as if it wasn't there. His touch was like a warm shower, a constant stream of water that traveled downwards. It made her want to move away, but Percy didn't seem to get that message, still tapping his foot. Once they were both in the elevator, Percy hit the call button for the third floor.

Although the space could fit another four people, Percy kept his shoulder touching hers, as if knowing that if he broke contact and her mind reassembled itself, she would recognize that going into a vacant office building wasn't the smartest idea. She didn't have to have a fully functioning mind to know that, but it was like his touch was keeping her from reacting. From moving away from him or trying to run. She'd debated if she should even come, and she'd never reached a verdict.

He was different from any other boy she'd met, though she barely knew him. How he'd caught her eye, she couldn't explain. On New Years Eve she'd been vulnerable. Luke's new girlfriend had texted her photo after photo of the two of them. Kissing, cuddling, laughing. Innocent photographs used to tear her apart. She'd ended it off with a demanding ' _stay away from him',_ and Annabeth had regretted being in such a public place that night.

She'd ducked into a bedroom and cried her eyes out, her rage building in her throat and dying as it left her mouth. She'd felt so exhausted and dead inside, her last link to happiness severed.

She'd seen these pills on the counter… She didn't know what they were, but she knew that they could end it for good… No more tears, no more bruises…

She'd almost brought them to her mouth when she'd heard the door opening, and Percy Jackson had entered the room. She quickly hid the bright blue capsules in her closed palm, trying to wipe the constant flow of tears from her eyes as he'd walked in.

"Annabeth." His voice shocked her back into the present, her head snapping back up from where it had been staring at the floor. Her hand was back in his, and he had his head cocked to the side in confusion, and maybe… Humor? It was a funny thing, seeing the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "You coming?" He asked, his voice finally louder than a whisper.

Annabeth realized that the elevator had opened up, showing a brightly lit hallway with doors that ended far past her line of sight. Percy was standing outside the elevator, and Annabeth was still inside. Their entertained hands hung between them, taunt. He squeezed her hand like he had two weeks ago in encouragement, and Annabeth blushed.

"Sorry." She muttered, stepping out and letting him guide her to wherever they were going. He let her catch up until they were side by side, then matched her pace. He led her down the hallway, past doors with numbers placed beside them in a plastic case. There seemed to be secondary slots below each number, probably for names and ranks in the offices. Each number past them in a blur.

 _303, 305, 307, 309, 311…_

Percy began to slow halfway down the hallway, squeezing her hand in acknowledgement for her to do the same. She complied, stopping with him in front of door 317. The whole floor was silent, besides the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above her head and Percy's even breathing beside her. Without turning to look at her, he spoke.

"The man you're about to meet is my friend, okay? He's a good guy and I trust him not to tell anybody about us. I want you to listen carefully to what he says, and I'll be in the room the whole time if you start to feel uncomfortable. Just let me know." He said. Annabeth could hear a ringing in her ears, and the way he spoke made her feel cautious, but she nodded. Her stomach turned though, when she repeated his words in her head.

The only real shock she had was that he had said that ' _I trust him not to tell anybody about us.'_ Us. As in the both of them. As if they were in this mess together, and he was bearing equal weight to her. It didn't make her angry, or mad. Just the _way_ he said it made her feel… Uncomfortable. She didn't like the word 'us'.

He took a deep breath beside her, then opened the door for her, leading her in by the small of her back.

…

It felt like a doctor's office.

The white walls and blue carpet still dominated the room that was as big as her kitchen, keeping whatever work space this was supposed to be bland and boring. There were two overhead lights that connected with the segmented sub ceiling, and the heater was on, blasting warm air through the room. The window in the back of the room was blacked out, and Annabeth wasn't sure what to make of that.

Cupboards lined the door side wall eye level with Annabeth, along with granite counters level with her belly button. Whatever they held was a mystery to Annabeth, but she had the feeling she would figure it out soon. There was a desk in the far left of the room, tucked to the side as if it were an afterthought. A man sat there, typing away on his laptop.

But what really caught her eye were the medical instruments scattered around the rather large office. A scale beside the desk, a bed you'd find in a medical clinic. There was some sort of cart with two computer monitors sticking out of it and a few wires that gave Annabeth a chill, but it soon left. Whatever this building was supposed to be, someone was using it as a hospital.

The man, who had been typing away at his computer, stood when he noticed Percy and Annabeth. He appeared to be in his twenties, early thirties at the latest. He was rather handsome, the kind of face that she bet girls her age would tear out of a yearbook and post it in their lockers. His blond hair was gelled upwards, his jeans and yellow dress shirt (with the sleeves rolled up) showing off his muscles, and when he smiled Annabeth could imagine the girls in her school tripping over each other to meet him.

His attention was directed towards Percy, and the smile he gave him almost made Annabeth jealous. As the man stepped forward he opened his arms into a hug, wrapping Percy into a tight embrace. "Long time, no see cousin. Been trying to avoid family again?" He said, the smile leaking into his voice. Percy returned the embrace, and Annabeth saw his eyes close in content.

Percy let out a snort when the man stepped back, putting his hand on his shoulder. "You're one to talk. Last time I saw you, you were on my doorstep and asking if you could get a beer." He said, his green eyes shining like a bonfire. With a shock, Annabeth realized she saw the same fire in the man with the yellow shirt, but instead of green it was a startling, sky blue. Like an oven flame dancing under a pot.

The man smirked. "And yet you still had one."

"Jerk." Percy grunted.

The man laughed, his melodious voice breaking the tension that had hung in the air since Annabeth had first gotten into her cab on the Upper East Side. For just a second her lips twitched upwards into a smile, but instantly dropped again. Her confusion was mounting, building up one piece at a time. Soon, she'd be lost in the questions without any answers.

The man turned to Annabeth, his smile still brighter than the fluorescent lights. He was charming, yes, but Annabeth saw something else in his gaze as well. Something upsetting, twisting her stomach into knots. "Hello there, Ms…?"

She didn't have time to speak. She didn't know what to say, and her tongue was tying itself up again. Thankfully, Percy answered for her. "It's Chase, Andrew. Annabeth Chase." He said. Annabeth closed her mouth, blushing slightly but giving a nod of confirmation. Percy then gave Annabeth a significant look. "Annabeth, this is my cousin, Andrew Pollo. He's a doctor."

She raised an eyebrow, though she wasn't surprised. The equipment scattered all over, the smell of anesthetic… It was all so familiar. It reminded her of all the times she'd visited, after rough encounters with her father or stepmother. Back when she'd run, just to be caught again a few hours later. Broken and battered, lying on the examination table… "A doctor, working out of an office building." She said, trying not to sound unconvincing or nervous. She doubted it was working.

Andrew just smiled. "I find I work best outside of the clinic, Ms. Chase." He said, giving her another charming smile. She wasn't distracted from her question, but Percy was behind him, eyeing her with a caution that the twins sometimes gave her if her step mother was home early. The fire in his eyes was back, warning her to speak carefully, or not at all. She opted to just nod her head and agree with Dr. Pollo.

All was quiet for a moment, until. The doctor clapped his hands together, as if trying to disperse the silence that threatened to return. The loud, unexpected noise made her blink, but otherwise she began to walk around the 'office'. She found everything neatly stacked on counters, from tongue depressors to syringes. The needles glinted evilly under the lights. She ran her fingers wherever they could go, over counter tops to the walls, mapping out the room simply through touch.

She stopped at the machine, not daring to touch it. It's shape and size led her to think of a few things that it could possibly be, but no label confirmed her suspicions. She felt the telltale spotlights on her back and knew that the two cousins were watching her as she took in her surroundings. She felt her hands shaking under their gazes, so she folded her arms in an effort to conceal them. She turned slowly, facing their matching, curious looks.

She directed her question to Percy first. "Why did you bring me here?" She asked. He remained silent, but the doctor stepped forward, flashing another smile.

"Isn't it obvious? I've got everything ready for your first ultrasound."

…

"Are you okay?"

Annabeth looked up from where she sat in Percy's Charger, away from the window and passing streets. He hadn't spoken since they'd left the doctor's office, choosing instead to avoid her gaze. She was a bit surprised he'd spoken to her at all. Percy kept his eyes on the road, repeating the question. "Are you okay?"

She hadn't given that question a lot of thought lately. 'Okay' seemed to be a strange, abstract concept. If by 'okay' he meant 'normal' then no, she didn't feel normal. She felt off balanced and confused, especially after meeting with a doctor in an office building. Especially with something growing in her womb.

But if by 'okay' he meant 'content', then she would have to say yes. The car was warm and after a long day of school she felt like sleeping in tomorrow. It would be her first Saturday off in months, and she was excited for it.

(Or she would research more about the products Dr. Pollo had given her before she'd left. Prenatal vitamins, medicine for morning sickness, even a guide to swaddling. It was strange, getting these items from a doctor in an office building, but she would at least try them out.)

He hadn't clarified what he meant by 'okay', so she chose the answer she expected he wanted to hear. The one he wouldn't worry about. "I'm fine." She said, turning back to the window quietly, watching the passing cars go by and letting the streetlights splash a little color over her face. She felt his gaze against her back for a moment, but he soon returned to the road.

She didn't want to talk with him until she had her own thoughts in check. Until she knew what questions to ask and how to ask them. She had no idea if she'd ever feel 'okay' around Percy, because she had theories bouncing around her head since she'd left the clinic. None of them had happy endings for her, and Percy's silence during the ultrasound wasn't helping her feel 'okay'.

"Are you sure?" He asked, quieter than before. Annabeth was drawn away from the window by his tone, and she looked him in the eye. There was something else there, something she'd only seen before on New Years Eve and again in the clinic, when they'd seen their baby. She was growing suspicious of _that_ too, but wasn't sure if bringing it to light would help.

Still, when his eyes met hers, she felt a wall go down. She looked away quickly this time, but she knew she'd given herself away. He knew she wasn't okay. What he didn't know was that she never would be, either.

But if her suspicions were true, he legitimately wanted to know if she was 'okay'.

Because he cared.

The words spilled out before she could stop them. "I'll be fine." She said, her arms folded protectively over her stomach. "Just a bit overwhelmed, I guess." She admitted.

"I know the feeling." He said, taking a left turn.

He didn't speak after that, and Annabeth was both surprised by her own words and his because they were both _truthful._ She leaned back in her seat, turning her head to look out of the window, wondering why Percy Jackson could talk to her like he knew her so well. She felt like she didn't know herself most days, too busy blindly grasping at a Stanford scholarship to look in the mirror.

It was nearly eleven forty five before he got her home, but she was too tired to care. She'd been fine before, but the baby hormones were messing with her sleep schedule, and she tired easily now. He noticed, opening the car for her and helping bring her product bag to the door for her. If he kept taking her hand in his, she might get used to the feeling in her chest when he was close.

He wished her goodnight on the doorstep, and before she could tell him no he pecked her on the cheek. He left her by her door, still looking towards him as he got back into his car and pulled away.

When she got inside and into her bed, her heart and head synchronized to the same mantra. It kept her up for a few minutes, but slowly began to die away as she drifted off to sleep.

 _He cares._

* * *

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	5. Twelve Weeks

**Hey Guys!**

 **Sooo glad you guys are liking the story! I have a lot of fun writing it, and I enjoy the reviews you all post! I've been experimenting with my writing style, trying to make it more... My own, you know? Of course, that's what Fanfiction is all about, at least to me. I'm just happy you all are enjoying this. The idea sat in the back of my mind for weeks, and when one of my friends convinced me to write it... well, I wasn't going to say no.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I am Not Rick.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

 _(Twelve Weeks)_

She was at work when her phone began to go off.

Usually, she kept it on vibrate and left it for the end of her shift. It was always her parents, telling her what time they would be home and that dinner better be ready. Sometimes Piper or Thalia, missing New York, would start to rant and keep her up to date on their lives. She hadn't received messages from them since January, though. They'd probably moved on.

But this was a constant buzzing in her pocket. Someone was calling her, not texting her. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew who it was.

She'd just switched Zoë at the ticket stand, but between her and her co-workers they called it their break. Besides weekends, everyone used the electronic ticket booth outside. It was mid afternoon on a Friday, and no one would be at the movies until later tonight. Deciding it was safe, she pulled out her phone and answered it.

"Hello?"

There was a hiss of static, followed by quiet words. She couldn't hear whoever it was. Maybe 'it's me'?

"I'm sorry, who is this? I can't hear you." She said.

Another hiss, and the sound of a phone being dropped. She heard a curse word loud and clear, then finally some legible words. " _It's me."_

"Percy?" She asked, suddenly feeling exposed in the ticket stand. She looked around her, seeing if anyone was watching. It was still slow, and she took a chance. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she slipped into the custodial closet connected to the stand. She kept the door open in case anyone needed her help, then spoke again in a whisper. "How did you get my number?"

There was another burst of static, and Annabeth realized that she could hear traffic as well. Honking car horns, yelling pedestrians… The hissing was wind. " _Where are you right now?"_ He asked, his voice thick with tension. Annabeth felt a shiver go down her spine, and the nausea that had been leaving recently was beginning to make a reappearance.

"The Megaplex by my house. I'm off shift in a few minutes." She informed him, still whispering like it was some big secret. In all actuality, to an extent it was. She checked the open door again, but no one was there. Her boss would be making rounds soon, though, and she needed to get back to her station. "Listen, can we talk later? I'm-"

He interrupted her, his voice sounding farther away than before. It irked her, but he couldn't see her reaction. " _Annabeth, I'm going to pick you up at the corner in twenty minutes, okay? Can you be there?"_ He asked, his voice taking on a hint of desperation. That's what made Annabeth hesitate to reprimand him. He'd never sounded desperate before, and it concerned her.

Annabeth didn't have to be a genius to understand that a doctor doesn't operate in an office building. She understood that something else was going on in Percy's life she didn't understand. Her mind was spinning with unanswered questions, but he had been avoiding her since last week, when she'd tried to bring it up.

They were supposed to be going in for another ultrasound in eight weeks. Was Percy pushing the date up to tonight? She decided that couldn't be it, but kept an open mind. She realized she hadn't given him an answer yet. Looking towards the clock, she saw that her shift was about to end (2:00). She needed to give Percy an answer.

What if he was involved with something illegal? What if he was going to drag her into it? She didn't want to be a part of whatever he was a part of, especially since she was finally out of school and free of her responsibilities as a student. She'd had a talk with her counselor, and she had agreed to let Annabeth take all her classes online till graduation. The last thing she wanted to do was switch one burden with another.

But Percy had leverage on her, kind of. And her parents didn't expect her home for a few hours anyways… "I'll be out there, but if whatever you're doing doesn't end by seven tonight, I'll break your neck." She warned. Threats over the phone were so much easier than in person, and she'd been trying to get over all the rumors spreading about him. He was human, and she would treat him like one.

He was silent for a moment, and Annabeth wondered if he'd hung up or just dropped the phone. " _Deal."_ He said, and the call ended.

…

She stood in her black work pants, a purple polo and her Megaplex hat, her jacket tossed over her shoulder when he pulled up.

It was nearly April, and the rain was starting to fall erratically from the sky at odd intervals. It always seemed cloudy and under the weather, but today it was windy as well. The wind picked at her hair that wasn't tucked under her hat, throwing it into her line of sight and annoying her further.

She waited five minutes before a blue Prius pulled up beside her. It was a sad comparison to the sleek Charger she'd seen two weeks before, but Percy didn't seem to mind. He parked, got out and walked over to the other side, helping her in like a true gentleman. Out of the windy weather and with the heater on full blast, she sighed in bliss. Percy got back in the driver's side, speeding off quickly from the curb.

It only took a moment for him to start speaking. "We're going to the mall." He said quickly, getting in the turning lane and taking a sharp right. Annabeth heard a few pedestrians yelling, but Percy didn't pay attention. He drove fast, and Annabeth's stomach churned.

"Nice car." She commented idly, pushing down her nausea, though she felt her nose beginning to act up, finding scents in the car she wouldn't have been able to before. Pencil led and sharpies. An odd smell, coming from the D averaging student. "The mall? What, are you taking me out on a date?"

She let the comment slip out accidentally, and it had come out snappier than she thought was safe. Percy seemed under heavy duress, and her mood swings wouldn't help him feel any better ( _let him feel bad,_ her mood swings snapped). She went to apologize when she was caught off guard by something entirely opposite of what she expected.

He was _laughing._ A honest, chest rumbling noise that made something in her stomach tingle that wasn't nausea or the need to pee. Even when he had finished, his smile was leaving a dimple on his right cheek she hadn't noticed before… It was a good look for him, she supposed. All he needed was to learn how to drive better in the New York traffic.

As if to further prove her point, he swerved to avoid a car ahead of him, effectively pissing off the driver behind them and earning an angry honk. The lurching of the vehicle mixed with her own rising bile was enough to almost make her stomach empty itself.

Percy noticed, and instantly his brows scrunched together in worry. Her face must've been taking on an abnormal shade, because he was quick to reach across her to the glove compartment. He opened it, removing a bag covered in cartoon pictures and grease stains: a Happy Meal.

She didn't offer any thanks besides allowing what little lunch she'd had left to empty out into the bag. It wasn't the first time that day, but she was getting slightly worried. Her research had pointed out that, while nearing the second trimester, morning sickness would go down, like how she didn't have to rush to the restroom as often. She felt a worm of worry burrowing into her stomach, and just the thought had her clutching her womb closely.

She wasn't close to settling down, but when she felt Percy's hand against her face she was a bit alarmed. She didn't understand what he was doing at first, but when she felt the few curls that had escaped her hat go behind her ears her face went pink. It wasn't that his gesture wasn't kind, but being this sick in front of others, especially him… Frankly, she was embarrassed.

When she was sure she was done, she took the top of the bag and rolled it up, placing it delicately on the floor and hopping her sick didn't seep through. She expected silence after that, and yet she really, _really_ wanted his laughter and smile to return.

Instead, his gentle voice broke the barrier that was forming. "Is it getting any worse? I haven't seen you rushing to the bathroom at school in a while…"

She was once again startled by his questions, because she wasn't aware he was watching so carefully, and she wasn't sure what to think of that observation. She realized that she'd been staring again and averted her gaze to her lap, where her fingers were intertwined. "That's because I'm taking online classes, dummy." She said, using jokes to avoid the seriousness of the topic at hand.

The car slowed down slightly, hitting a red light. He put the gear in park and turned to her. She could feel his full focus on her womb again, and she ducked her head away from him. She just wasn't comfortable around him… and it wasn't his fault, exactly. She was owning up to her mistake, because it takes two to make a baby, and she knew he was owning up to it as well, trying to take care of _her._

Everything was quiet for a while, but she knew he was watching her. Assessing her reaction and trying to figure out what to say. She'd at least learned that about Percy: he didn't speak until he'd thought it all out first, and then tried to figure out what she might reply back with. "Hey," he said, speaking in that soft tone. He took her hand, and she wondered if he knew what that did to her. The way her mind would shut down. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

She decided to ignore what he was saying, because _no,_ she couldn't talk to him. She couldn't work with him, and she couldn't trust him. That much she understood, as much as he didn't trust her with the real reason he was taking her to the mall. She was a one night stand turned baby momma, and she had been feeling more and more tense as the weeks had gone by.

"Yes." She lied, but it tasted bitter in her mouth and sounded hollow in her own ears. She doubted Percy was fooled for even a second. The silence that followed only left her more unconvinced of her own lie. She searched for any topic to move the conversation forward. "Green light."

The car began to move again, but Percy's hand never let go of hers.

…

"You are _not_ making me go in there." Percy stated, his feet planted firmly on the mall floor.

It had been an hour since they'd arrived, and Annabeth had felt as if she were being put through torture. Her feet were aching, her head was pounding, and she really wanted to just curl up into a ball and take a nap. She hadn't wanted to _go_ to the mall in the first place, especially after nearly emptying her stomach in his(?) car. She had been so desperate to avoid it, she'd even suggested going to see a movie at her work.

He'd pulled out a brick of cash and promised her she could choose every store they go into, and he would buy everything. This hadn't even swayed her, but when he mentioned that she'd need maternity clothing for when she started showing, she'd consented. Besides, she actually _did_ need to be thinking about her clothing options. Her jeans, a regular part of her wardrobe, weren't fitting anymore.

So, although reluctant, he'd dragged her into the mall.

Judging by his current facial expression while she was trying to drag him into Victoria's Secret, he was regretting his decision.

"Absolutely not. You can go in there another day." He said, planting himself like a rock outside of the store. She frowned, trying intently to keep him moving with her. She tugged and pushed, but all she managed to do was shake the half dozen bags he held in his hands. "You can't make me."

Her frown widened, and she tried not to pout like a child. It wasn't that she actually _wanted_ him in there (that would be strange), but she loved giving him a hard time over everything. "It's not my fault that I need new bras. I just need to see if they have anything for maternity, that's it." She said, bringing up maternity in an effort to make him feel guiltier. Her mood swings had started taking a toll on her, and therefore the burden had to move to Percy.

His cheeks, a bit paler than his usual skin tone, exploded in red, and Annabeth had to hold back a smirk. She enjoyed messing with him, mood swings or not. For a guy that could hide every other emotion as well as her, he was easily embarrassed. His arms were straining with the amount of clothing on them, and Annabeth almost felt a bit guilty for going hard on him. Almost.

His resolve, like his skill at hiding emotion, was as thick as steel. His blush and the whispered mention of maternity didn't stop the fact he would fight tooth and nail before going into the store willingly. "Any other store, _please."_ He begged, and Annabeth felt her smirk turn into a grin. He still had that fire in his eyes, but it was sputtering and coughing out, as if lacking fuel. She found that it made him less intimidating, and she liked him that way. It made her feel normal for a change.

"You promised I could pick wherever we'd go." She pointed out, keeping her arms crossed in front of her chest and her face stern. His eyes flickered back to the sign, then he suddenly shook his head. A new round of blushing exploded into his face, crimson under the lights.

"Nope. Nuh-uh, I said you could pick where we'd _stop._ I never said I would go into every outlet with you." He said, walking over to the nearest bench with her following closely behind. He took a seat, removing the bags from his sore forearms, flexing them lightly. Annabeth felt her gaze lingering on the muscle-

She shook her head to clear it, and decided that he'd been doing well for the past hour. She looked upwards, towards the clock in the main commons area that opened into the rest of the mall. She bit her lip lightly, trying to do the math in her head. Satisfied, she nodded. "You have fifteen minutes to drop the bags off at the car. I'll go in by myself." She decided, turning to walk towards the store. She didn't laugh when she heard his extremely relieved sigh, but her grin finally stretched into a dazzling smile.

…

She had the Victoria's Secret bag over her shoulder, and her sneakers beat repeatedly against the ground below her. She kept glancing towards the clock, making sure that she wasn't wrong. Percy had been gone for a little over twenty minutes now, and she _knew_ the car was a five minute walk at most. She had a gut feeling, and it wasn't good. Something was happening to Percy, and she was scared to find out what it was.

She shouldered her bag, starting to trace a path back to the car. She could start there, then wrap around the mall until she found her. And if she had to, she would not hesitate in making the mall security announce over the PA that a lost child by the name Percy Jackson was somewhere in the premises. She almost started to walk faster, whether to find him sooner or call security was undecided.

As she left the building and entered the parking lot, she figured out exactly where Percy was.

The car was a bland maroon red, with an elongated hood and chunky design. It was the kind of car that blended in with every other car in the Big Apple, and it wouldn't have stood out now if Percy's face wasn't currently being pushed into the window as the detective clicked the cuffs into place and read him his rights.

He was a tall, plain closed detective, yet he looked flawless. Bronze skin and dark hair, with eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. His polo shirt tucked into dark jeans, and his Reeboks looked ready for a sprint. His badge reflected on his belt, casting a pale/gold light that flashed into Annabeth's eyes. His partner was not as tall, but his brown crew cut and darker skin, they looked like a real pair of TV detectives.

Annabeth's pace quickened, her feet moving her faster than she thought possible since her need to pee had decreased. She was nearly sprinting as they began to shove him into the back of their car.

The darker skinned detective saw her first, his brow furrowing in what she guessed was annoyance. When he noticed she was looking intently at Percy, he seemed to become instantly aware towards the fact she was going to cause them trouble. He began to match her pace, walking to intercept her.

They met right in front of the car, and she understood these two were senior officers. The way they both held themselves, casual yet alert. She saw his gun holstered to his hip, glinting wickedly in the sunlight. He waited till they were face to face before he spoke. "I'm sorry Miss, but I need you to stand back." He said, his voice authoritative and smooth.

Annabeth wasn't deterred, she was angry, actually. "Where are you taking my boyfriend?" She asked, her annoyance leaking into her voice. She didn't _mean_ to label him as her boyfriend, but it slipped out. Besides, she was certain that she didn't want him to have the title 'father of my child' hanging out in the public. "What did he do?"

The younger detective removed his sunglasses, showing her his big, brown eyes. He stood between her and the car, blocking her from getting any further. She fumed slightly, but she held her tongue. Baby hormones would only make Percy's situation worse. The detective in back came forward, looking much less happy or cooperative than his partner. "Who're you?" He demanded.

She opened her mouth to answer, but his partner spoke first, cutting her off. "His girlfriend." He supplied, his tone almost disgusted. The second man nodded, as if agreeing with the statement. Annabeth felt her cheeks reddening, and her fists clenched at her sides. The pink paper bag in her hand trembled, and the two noticed the label. They smirked, as if they actually knew what she'd gotten.

"Now, why are you arresting my boyfriend. What did he do to deserve getting shoved into the back of a cop car?" She repeated, speaking slowly and as if she were explaining something to toddlers.

The junior detective scoffed, speaking just as slowly in a mocking manner. "You can read about it in the papers tomorrow if you're so interested, princess." He said. Her vision flashed red for a moment, but Annabeth held in her anger.

"He's my ride home, and I think I'm at least owed an explanation for why he won't be able to bring me home today." She reasoned. She knew they weren't legally obliged to tell her anything, but she really, really wanted to know what Percy was involved in, and these two might give her an idea of what it could be. Or confirm the suspicion she'd had since her ultrasound visit. The senior officer just smirked.

"I'm afraid Perseus won't be able to give you a ride Ms. Not in his _stolen car,_ at least." The detective taunted. Annabeth crossed her arms again, trying to get over the overwhelming urge to strangle the supermodel cops. "But if you'd like to ride in the back, then by all means." He said, gesturing to the cop car. His partner was already done with the conversation, moving to take the shotgun seat.

Annabeth _hated_ bullies, and these two reminded her of the football players at her school. She had once loved cops, and her ambition as a child had been to go straight into the police academy when she got out of highschool, but that had ended a long time ago. After two uniformed officers had picked her up walking alongside the road when she was seven. It had been the first time she'd ever run away, and the way they'd simply shoved her into the back of the police car had caused her more terror than her parents had. She'd lost the nerve to run until she was eleven, ending in the same situation. They didn't even ask why she'd run away.

She fumed, and decided that she wasn't going to let them push her around like that. With the senior detective watching, Annabeth stomped to the car Percy had apparently stolen. The back door was already open, and Annabeth could guess that they hadn't even waited for Percy to lock the car. They'd jerked him away from the bags and simply slammed him against the hood of the Prius. She felt her vision tinge the slightest bit red.

She reached into the car, pulling out her jacket and all the clothes that she'd bought today. The bags weighed her down, put she sucked in a breath and hoisted them up and out. She must've looked like she was out for blood, but the detective only raised an eyebrow as she walked to the opposite side of the cop car and opened the door.

Percy, who had been laying his forehead against the seat across from him, was startled to see her trying to take a seat beside him. He looked like he couldn't comprehend what she was doing, and it was oddly satisfying to surprise him. It almost made up for the rude cops. Almost. "Move over." She ordered, trying to position the bags on the floor around their feet. The second detective had taken his place in the driver's seat, and she saw his annoyed expression when she started to position the bags. She smirked a little.

When she was done, and the bags were in, she sat down, barely getting the chance to buckle up before the car jerked into first gear. She made a noise of protest, because the detective was a worse driver than Percy. Eventually though, they had to slow as the traffic around them congested worse than the commons area at school. She briefly wondered if that wasn't just a coincidence, and more of a life lesson for the traffic in the city. She didn't ponder on it long, but it occupied her time.

Percy took her hand again, and for a moment she questioned her sanity. She'd never willingly gotten into a police car before, but she had for him. Not for sticking it to the detectives like she'd thought, although that was a bonus. When his hand made contact with hers, and their palms molded together, she felt a shocking revelation take hold of her. She was _enjoying_ holding his hand. She enjoyed being beside him, even though they were in the back of a police car and he had apparently stolen a car (though she doubted that). It wasn't anything she normally liked, but she had figured out a long time ago: Percy Jackson was the exception.

…

They were separated as soon as they entered the Precinct. The detectives (Pete Leseus and Tyrone Remus, Percy had informed her) rushed Percy across the building once they'd exited the elevator, leaving her with a uniformed officer and half a dozen shopping bags that she had nowhere to put. Her arms were beginning to ache, along with her head, but she didn't have to throw up. That was fine with her, seeing as they hadn't been able to grab lunch like Percy said they would.

The uniformed officer, a stone faced woman who told her to call her Gwen, led her around a wide loop of open space desks. Men and women in sharp suits and uniforms weaved between desks, while phones rang and words echoed in the space. It was actually a really amazing design, and she liked the open setup they had. It was probably better for communication this way. She saw two glass windowed rooms that she assumed were offices or meeting rooms, but she couldn't be sure, seeing as how the blinds were closed.

She wouldn't have paid much attention to it, but she saw a couple of whiteboards scattered around the room as well, each looking like it's own display of faces and words. She couldn't make out exactly what it'd said, but she knew these were each a case. Each some crime being stripped of drama and biases, only leaving the cold, hard evidence. She wondered if _her_ face had ever been put on one of these boards before, but she doubted it. She kept pace with Gwen until she saw it.

It was Percy… but it wasn't. There were two photographs on the board beside her, and she recognized both. They appeared to be of the same person, but after careful inspection, she decided it couldn't be. The first photo looked like Percy, yes, but he had this sneer on his face. This look that said someone was going to pay. The eyes as well… Too blue. They reminded Annabeth of shelves in the ocean, completely dropping off into nothing. No, that wasn't Percy.

The second one… that was Percy. He didn't look angry or bored, but they eyes must've been burning into the camera. The intelligence there was impossible to miss, and impossible to deny. Percy Jackson was on a board in a police Precinct. She wondered which one, and tried to decipher the board for further clues, but she only had a glimpse of it before Gwen opened a door to some sort of break room. "In." She said.

Annabeth complied, although a tad reluctantly. She wanted to see that board again. To know what was so special about Percy, or to at least guess what he was actually involved in. Maybe if she could see what Precinct they were in… Yes. Annabeth would figure it out on her own. She'd keep guessing until she found the right answer, then confront him about it. She had a right to know, didn't she? She was carrying their child.

She found herself in a darker room, with only a few chairs and tables adorning it. Their was some sort of alcove, and inside of it she saw two vending machines. She almost laughed, the resemblance being uncanny. The same bright light, the same comforting hum. Even the same healthy snacks that no one ever bought. It made her smiling, thinking about the same machines sitting in the office building she'd visited. She figured there must be some symbolism in the machines, but she didn't find any.

Instead, Annabeth found a seat in the back of the room, laid her bags on the table, and leaned back against the tan colored walls. She didn't know if anyone was going to question her, or even speak to her, but she wanted to at least try and not fall asleep. She texted her father reluctantly, telling him she'd be home late. She didn't get a text back, but the time stamp at the bottom confirmed that he'd read it.

She tried other mindless tasks to keep her occupied, but the problem was they were just that: mindless. She felt tiredness begin to seep into her bones, and the events of the day were starting to catch up with her. She'd been consistently tired over the course of the past few weeks, and her head was starting to feel heavier. Finally, she consented to her body and allowed her mind to drift into a dreamless sleep.

…

"Annabeth."

She jerked awake, her head shooting upwards and her neck cracking painfully in protest and eyes trying to adjust to the lighting in the room. It was all blurry, and she winced when her back began to express its discomfort in the position she'd been sleeping in. There was an annoying sensation of vertigo that she had for a moment, and her stomach turned in protest. Still, she kept it under control.

She realized that she was still in her chair, and her back had been bent over with her face in her arms on the table. A hand was still gently shaking her awake, and the voice that had accompanied it softly spoke again. "Annabeth, it's time to go home."

She blinked quickly, her eyes adjusting and her memory returning. She was still in the break room, and her bags were still scattered haphazardly on the table beside her. She felt a yawn coming, and didn't try to stop it when it did. "Percy?" She asked.

The boy in question helped her out of her chair, and when a sudden bout of dizziness seized her. Her head began to experience that vertigo like feeling again, and she couldn't find her footing. She fell into Percy, and he let out a quiet grunt. "Yeah, it's me." He muttered, trying to keep her upright. She blushed lightly at have to be held up like a toddler, but his arms felt safe. Warm. She wasn't sure if she wanted to leave or not.

Not the Precinct. She was ready for that. But his arms… She wanted to curl up and take another nap.

"Annabeth, we need to go."

She sighed, but smirked lightly. He sounded embarrassed, and she remembered that she liked embarrassing him. "Sorry Percy. I've got to make up for lost sleep. I'm sure you can carry me to a taxi." She said, her tired mind slurring her words slightly.

She could feel Percy stiffen as she spoke, and she could guess how flustered and red he looked. He spoke again, and his voice was a bit tense. "Annabeth, I can't carry you."

"I'm not _that_ fat." She said. It felt like he was as taut as a bow string.

"I can't carry you _and_ the bags." He corrected.

"I'm sure you'll think of something." She said, leaning a bit further into his chest.

" _Annabeth."_ He said, and she realized he was whining. It was kinda cute, really. She couldn't contain her chuckles as she stood up straight, focused and awake. Her grin must've been ear to ear, and judging by Percy's expression, he had believed her the whole time. She giggled a little, which wasn't a normal thing for her to do, but he was extremely flustered.

"Are we going to go, or what?" She asked innocently, already beginning to walk towards the door. Percy had his mouth half open, and the fire in his eyes had sputtered and died completely. He almost looked as carefree as she felt, and when he smiled at her she couldn't help but smile back.

He didn't complain when he picked up her bags. He simply followed her out.

Gwen, the officer from before, stood outside the door. In fact, detectives Tyrone and Pete stood there as well, and as Annabeth began to walk out of the Precinct and towards the elevator, she felt their eyes following her. In fact, more than a few detectives and officers followed her with their gazes.

No, not her. She realized that they were looking at Percy behind her. She cast a glance at him over her shoulder, and noticed his uncomfortable facial expressions. The way his neck seemed to be trying to disappear into his shirt. She could feel his discomfort rolling off him in waves, and it made her feel anxious as well. The fire had returned to his eyes, burning brighter than she'd ever seen, as if trying to hold back a rainstorm with his mind.

She slowed her pace slightly, until she was right beside him. He didn't seem to notice, but she didn't blame him. She felt as if the happy moment they had shared (the first they'd ever really had) was starting to dissipate. She didn't want it to. "Hey." She said, grabbing his attention away from the staring eyes. He locked onto her eyes, and although the intensity made her shiver she held his gaze. "You okay?"

He bit his upper lip, but nodded lightly. She wasn't convinced, but decided to leave it alone. Instead, she reached for his hand. _She_ put her hand in _his._ At first it was a bit uncomfortable, but then his fingers wove together with hers and he squeezed her hand. She squeezed back lightly, and this time he had to hide a smile. She didn't hold hers back, and as they got into the elevator and the eyes began returning to whatever work they were issued, he let his beam back at her as well.

His hand didn't let go of hers, but as the elevator began to head towards the lobby Percy's smile dimmed until it was set in a thin line again, and his eyes wouldn't meet hers. "Thanks, for going out with me today. I know it wasn't a real date or anything…"

Her own smile began to taper off, and eventually she was looking down at her feet in confusion, and maybe a bit of disappointment. She coughed quietly, and her head was suddenly being pumped full of doubt. "Yeah. Happy to be your cover story whenever you need one." She said. He didn't talk after that, instead shifting from one foot to the other. The pressureless atmosphere that had surrounded her began to fill, pressing down on Annabeth's chest.

As they entered the lobby though, and his hand kept hold on hers, she saw the floor directory fast approaching her. She mentally memorized what floor they had been on, and she found her answer to what Percy might be linked to.

 _ **NYPD: OCCB:**_

 _ **Brooklyn North & Brooklyn South**_

* * *

 **Read, Review, Favorite and Follow!**

 **LHG :)**


	6. Thirteen Weeks

**This is, by far, the longest chapter I've ever written.**

 **That is not to say that it's the longest thing I'll ever write. That isn't to say that it wasn't easy. I want to let you know right now, this is the chapter I put blood, sweat, and a few tears into. I had a lot of time to write this, and I even took a few minutes to edit (So, expect a few spelling or grammatical errors). Glad to see some support, and happy to know people like this story so far.**

 ** _IIII Winter Wolf IIII:_ Yes, it _is_ adorable. I appreciate the comments.**

 ** _ColdMilkLover:_ Always glad to see your reviews! Percy just seems like the kind of guy that would steal a car, though, right? I mean, only if it was important, of course.**

 ** _raelauren:_ Haven't heard from you in a while! I _love_ the questions, and I urge you to keep it up. I want some serious 'McDonalds Chicken Nugget' level conspiracy theories from you! And, you know, PM's sometimes get answers. Food for thought.**

 ** _ImSuperFluffy:_ I will take this advice into consideration. I find it hilarious that you think that, and in all honesty you're right. You'll get your answers, buddy. Mark my words.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I am not Rick.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

( _Thirteen Weeks)_

He'd gotten a hold of her number, and since then he'd text her at least five times each day. At first, she was a little annoyed by it because it was mostly just asking if she was experiencing and worsening pregnancy symptoms. Sometimes he'd ask if she was feeling better since she'd confided that her dizzy spells were only getting worse, but mostly he'd start asking if he could come over, or she would like to meet up with him. She never told him yes, because the last thing she needed was him meeting her parents.

She'd soon, however, grown fond of the dotting, although she was reluctant to admit it. He always replied within five minutes after she'd replied, or apologized if he hadn't, and Luke had been _horrible_ at replying on time. It was almost… refreshing. Getting a new message was nice, even though it was all she could get from Percy. She understood a little more now: Percy was somehow linked to an ongoing police investigation, and he didn't need her as a distraction.

It made sense to her. The office building clinic was a big tip, and the way the way rumors circulated around him like a disease in the hallways… she was glad she was out of high school. Online classes were a breeze, and she could plow through every assignment quicker than her teachers could blink. Percy wasn't following her in the hallways, and no one could tell she was beginning to show.

It was finally happening, and it made her shiver a bit. It wasn't dramatic, or even unexpected, but this made it real. This made it impossible to deny. Annabeth was growing a child inside of her womb. There was a living, breathing alien creature making her back hurt and making her lightheaded and so many other problems that she was surprised that her parents hadn't noticed. Surprised, but mostly relieved.

She was sitting in her room on her computer (a gift from Percy. She couldn't tell if he was bribing her or just trying to be a good friend), looking through articles about concealing a baby bump. It wasn't large yet, but the slight distention of her stomach was worrying her. She'd been debating quitting her job at the Megaplex, but it seemed to her she didn't have a choice anymore.

She was skimming through an article about healthy baby development when she heard the twins get home. Unlike her parents, they were energetic, positive, and _fun._ It was difficult catching up with them, and like all little brothers it was their duty to _annoy_ her. When the door was open and she heard their childish shrieks of glee, she sighed. It's not that she didn't love them- they were the only family she _did_ love. But her headaches were getting as bad as her dizzy spells, and neither were particularly pleasant.

Still, as she heard them stomping around downstairs she stopped reading from her laptop. She craned her neck slightly, trying to hear them better as she mentally mapped out where they were. It wasn't hard, considering how loud they were. Sneakers squeaked on the hardwood kitchen floor. Someone was running a hand on the wall in the living room. She heard the TV turn on, the familiar tune of _Castle_ starting to play. Silence followed as the show continued.

Annabeth huffed after a moment, knowing that she wasn't going to be able to focus on the articles anymore. She weighed the options in her head, and made her decision. She shut her laptop, deciding that she'd been working hard enough. She was already ahead of each lesson, and idly researching on her computer would only make her head hurt sooner. She got up and out of bed, her feet protesting as they made contact with the carpet. She ignored it, leaving her room.

She found Matthew and Bobby on one couch, sitting as still as they could get. Even though she was the one with ADHD, they were more hyper than she would ever be. They bounced in place, causing the couch to groan under their weight. They giggled to themselves, their twelve year old minds not fully understanding what they were ignoring. Annabeth smiled though, taking a seat at the foot of the couch.

She was usually enthralled by the show, but today she was focused more on the two on the couch. Her brothers paid her little attention, but they still did the little things. Putting their feet on her head, poking her shoulders and generally being the little craps she loved so much.

They were halfway through the show, but she couldn't stay focused. She couldn't… look away from the two of them. She didn't understand why, but they seemed so much more important suddenly. They both had the stereotypical twin look to them: meaning identical. Annabeth had, especially in the beginning, difficulty in telling them apart. Perhaps her parents had as well, because they were both so… similar.

She'd soon learned the tricks to figure it out. Matthew was more artistically inclined, drawing and sketching like he was painting a masterpiece each time. Bobby was more expressive, using his hands to display emotion as much as his face. Matthew threw footballs left handed, Bobby preferred a few strands of hair curling over his forehead. Little things like that. It was these quirks that disconnected them from their 'perfect' parents. She hoped one day, when they'd all settled into college life far away, they understood how lucky they were.

With a sudden sense of surprise, she understood why she was watching them so intently. Seeing their charming smiles, or their carefree expressions… It was amazing, yet startling, because she was going to have that in a few years.

She wasn't even out of highschool yet, and she was already planning for parenthood. The thought should've sent a chill down her spine, as it had the first moment she'd gripped a test in her hand. It should've frightened her, and made her want to call Percy so he could explain _exactly_ what would happen to their kid while she went off to Stanford.

Instead of a negative emotion, she almost felt… Joy. Happiness. Something that hadn't been present in her heart since… Well, New Years Eve. Percy, for just the most minescule moment in that years end had made her feel wanted. Accepted. _Happy._

Now, sitting at the foot of the couch while her brothers tried to see who could poke Annabeth with their feet the most without getting smacked left her feeling more full of emotion than the past few weeks put together.

For the first time, motherhood didn't sound like a curse.

…

" _x_ is equal to three, right? So if _x_ is three, and _y_ is twelve, what are you left with?"

Matthew stared directly into his paper, as if trying to tear the answer from the paper without having to actually work out the problem. He'd been sitting with Annabeth for the past half hour, trying to grasp the concept of Algebraic expressions under her watchful guidance. Bobby had finished ten minutes earlier, but he had a gift for guessing. Annabeth would go over Bobby's homework afterwards.

"It's seven, right?" He asked, as if he'd actually forced the question to answer itself. He gave her a confused glance, then looked back at the paper. "Or is it fifteen?" He said, second guessing himself. Annabeth rolled her eyes fondly, but took his pencil from him. She tapped the eraser to the equation they'd written on the margins.

"Close. Rework it, and if you don't get it this time I'll walk you through it." She promised, putting his pencil down. Matthew began to grumble about why he would ever need to know this if he was going to be a cowboy, and Annabeth couldn't stop the smile that accompanied a second fond eye roll.

She turned her attention to the page across the dully lit table from them, pulling it across so she could see Bobby's homework. She frowned a little, putting a mental tally beside problem 5, 12, and 17. He had a good grasp on the numbers, but he couldn't seem to understand word problems. She'd have to talk to the teacher, if they wanted to help-

Her thoughts were brought to a grinding halt when the front door squeaked open on their hinges, crashing against the wall beside it. She felt the hairs on the back of her head stand to attention, and her breath came in as a sharp hiss. She knew that sound, and knew what it could lead to. She knew what could happen if she didn't lock herself in her room _right now._

"Finish the problem and go play with Bobby, okay? I need to go to the bathroom." She said to Matthew, not waiting for an answer. She stood quietly, briskly taking each step in long strides towards the narrow stairway. Her mind was becoming hyper aware, focusing on the door as it passed into view. Her father's sinister smile flashed into her line of sight, and she felt a shiver go down her spine. She caught the slightest glimpse of her step mother's elbow, and she knew what was happening.

"Matthew honey? Bobby and I are going to the movies tonight. Would you like to come with?" Their mother asked. Annabeth was forcing herself to move faster. To close herself into her room before his hatred led him to her. She didn't _want this._ She didn't even want to know what might happen if Percy saw a bruise, or a mark on her skin. She didn't want the rumors to start.

"Can Annabeth come with us, too?" Matthew asked, innocence and kindness lacing his voice. Annabeth made it into her room, and she locked the door behind her. The _click_ of the lock engaging wasn't as comforting as she'd hoped, but it was what she had.

As expected, Fredrick knew just what to say to his son, drawing suspicion away from his activities. Annabeth could practically _hear_ the apologetic smile in his voice. "Maybe next time champ, okay? She works there long enough to have seen them all by now anyways." He said, his voice muffled through the solidness of the door. Annabeth felt her hands trembling, and urged them to calm down. She closed her eyes, backing away from the door.

"Okay." Matthew said, and Annabeth could hear his cheerfulness, brighter than a beacon. She kept backing up, towards her window. The backs of her thighs hit the edge and she sat down. It was big enough that if she wanted to she could sit fully into it. Two diagonal panes jutted from the walls and met the third, main window. She mainly used the area for reading, or looking towards the sky in hopes to see a star or two.

Or, she cowered there.

" _In my own little corner, in my own little chair, I can be whatever I want to be…"_ she sang quietly to herself. There were the twins voices, arguing about which movie they should go see. Her father told them he need to stay and work on his classes next lesson, and she felt the trembling return.

" _On the wing of my fancy I can fly anywhere, and the world will open its arms to me…"_ she continued, her legs moving inwards towards her chest. She curled herself up into a ball, listening to the door slam close. Silence followed, and Annabeth dreaded what would happen next.

" _I'm a young Norwegian Princess or a milk maid, I'm the greatest primadonna in Milan…"_ her voice began to grow quieter, along with the house. His loafers never seemed to make a sound as they made contact with the carpet. The walls around her felt suffocating, and she tried to curl up more. Her right hand fell on her stomach, and a new kind of fear washed over her.

" _I'm an heiress who has always had her silk made, by her own flock of silkworms in Japan…"_ she couldn't breath in, nor could she stop the words from leaving her mouth, quiet as they were. She heard him, she's sure of it. He's right outside her door, and she knows her cheap lock is nothing. He could pick it with a penny if he really wanted to.

" _Just as long as I stay in my corner…"_ she sang, skipping the rest of the verse. She didn't have enough time. Already, her grip on her stomach tightened and a tear or two threatened to leave her eyes. There was a burning sensation in her chest, and she felt like she was choking on something. Her lock was disengaged with a soft _click._ How passive that noise was, turning from a friendly reassurance to a deadly warning.

Still, her song wasn't over. Even as he stepped into her room, his face contorted in rage that she hadn't caused, her lips formed the words silently. Her walls began to build themselves up further. " _All alone in my own little chair…"_

…

She was running, and the traffic around her was only making her feel worse and worse. Everything was different now. Everything was starting to change. Her heart was thundering in her chest and her sweater seemed to only make her skin feel ice cold.

He'd hit her. He'd _hit HER._ Not Annabeth, but… _her._

Her arms were crossed protectively over her stomach as the tears began to try and spill out of her. She held back her sobs as she walked through the busy streets. One moment, all the honking felt far away from her, underwater. The next she could swear each honk was blasting in her face, aggressively trying to tell her something that she couldn't understand.

He must've _really_ been off today, because he didn't even speak. He let his fists and open palms convey whatever message he was trying to force her to hear, and she felt off balance. Her arms had never left her stomach, but then his fist had knocked into her.

Annabeth's breath had left her body, and then she'd screamed. She'd fallen to her knees, looking desperately for a way out of her own home. He'd left her door open, and she'd run. She didn't stop running, even though her bare feet cut against the sidewalk with each step.

She must've looked like a freak, without her shoes on and red rimmed eyes. Maybe even a reddening bruise over her face… she needed to keep running. She had to get away from it. From them. From _everything,_ if she could help it.

She continued onwards, passing by each street sign without any acknowledgement. Her head was starting to hurt as well, and the constant noise of traffic and yelling pedestrians made her want to crawl into a back alley and wait to be taken out with the rest of the trash. Still, her feet took her to wherever they decided. When she finally looked upwards and around the unfamiliar blocks, she guessed she didn't have an end destination. _Away_ from her home was the only option, it seemed to her.

She slowed bit by bit, her energy expended and adrenaline leaving her body. Her stride began to grow smaller and smaller, until her toes simply skidded on the sidewalk below her. She could feel something sharp digging into the bottom of her foot but didn't feel the urge to pick at it. She let the pain of every other step ground her. Focus her, until she could actually think of a plan.

Her arms stayed wrapped around her stomach, and her shoulders hunched over as her head drooped downwards. It all felt so unreal. This wasn't what she'd thought she'd look like at seventeen, had you asked her at age seven. No more running away, no more living with her parents… she wished she could talk to that seven year old. To warn her that getting into bed with a possible criminal was a horrible idea.

Her phone began to go off, and the startling feeling of the device in her pocket left her momentarily distracted. She pulled out her iPhone, looking intently at the screen and scared of who it could be. Her father or step mother, telling her to get home. Her manager, Octavian, calling her into work on her day off. Maybe it was Luke, finally growing a pair and confronting her about his betrayal (she might've blocked his number, but he knew hers by heart). "Hello?" She asked, her voice trying to conceal her emotion.

She didn't understand why she didn't even _consider_ the possibility of Percy calling her, but when she accepted the call and brought her phone to her ear it was his voice that answered back. " _Hey Annabeth."_ He said, something strange in his voice she couldn't catch. " _Listen, I don't know if you're busy tonight-"_ He paused suddenly, and too late did Annabeth realize her mistake. " _Wait, Annabeth are you crying right now?"_

She took a breath, trying to answer 'no', but all she did was end up sobbing into the receiver. She tried to hold it back but it slipped out. Already, just at the sound of him addressing her she felt broken. Her other hand clung to her abdomen. " _You're crying. Annabeth, what happened? Where are you right now?"_ He asked, and she could hear his panic in his voice.

She looked towards the end of the street, at the nearest sign, then told him where she was. Already, she could hear a car engine starting up from the other end of the call. He kept asking what happened, but she only kept repeating where she was. Her mind couldn't distinguish any other words. " _I'll be right there."_ He promised. " _Stay put, I'll be right there."_

He didn't hang up, repeating his words back to her and she quietly tried to hold in her sobs. Tears now began to roll down her eyes, hot and burning against the marks still fresh on her face. She didn't speak, afraid that she might burst into a whole new round of sobbing. His tone was soothing, but it wasn't helping her stay calm. "Please hurry." She finally whispered.

She meant those words. She meant them in ways she wasn't entirely sure she could understand. She felt like she _needed_ him there. Like he could help her, because she really needed help. From the dozens of people walking past her, the only looks they gave her were glances. Bored, uninterested, and uncaring. She only realized now that Percy had never looked at her like that before. She needed to see that look in his eyes again.

When his Charger pulled up and parked right across from her she didn't wait for him to get out and open the door for her like a gentleman. She sprinted, barefoot to his car, opening the door and closing it again once she was back in. She let out a shaky breath that she didn't know she'd been holding in, and was about to turn towards Percy and just tell him to _drive-_

Warmth.

Suffocating, enveloping, devouring warmth that she'd never felt before. Percy had his arms wrapped around her desperately, his right hand reaching all the way to her left side and his left hand on her back. His head was buried in her hair as his lips pressed against her ear, his words lost on her but his tone not. He sounded nearly frantic, but at the same time reassuring. His hand rubbed her back carefully, as if trying to relieve the pressure that had been building up for weeks now.

"It's going to be fine. It's going to be alright." He promised when she could understand him, and Annabeth was too worn out to argue that _nothing_ would _ever_ be alright. She let him hold her, and she responded in kind. When he moved her over the gearshift and basically into his lap, she went willingly. Her head buried itself into his chest as his heart beat welcomed her there. Her hands were pressed against his chest, pinned there. She felt her hot tears leech into his shirt, and her sobs pressed into his collarbone. His grip on her tightened.

They stayed in that same position for close to twenty minutes, her clinging to his shirt as he rubbed circles up and down her back. He let her cry until she didn't have enough energy or strength to keep the tears going. She went slack, boneless and dead in his arms. That's what her father always made her feel like: dead.

"What happened Annabeth?" He whispered, his lips against her ear. His breath sent a few stray curls flying into her face, but otherwise she didn't answer. She _couldn't_ answer.

"I need another ultrasound." She said, avoiding the question he'd posed on her. His hand faltered momentarily on her back, and she understood why. His confusion was palpable, and the questions that ran through his mind might as well have been said out loud. Her limp hands gripped Percy's shirt with renewed vigor. "We need to see if she's alright. Please." She added desperately.

Percy didn't loosen his grip, but he did lean his head back until he was looking at the top of her head. She didn't feel the fiery gaze this time though. She felt something else entirely. Something she wasn't familiar with. The sheer weight of it felt overwhelming, and she pushed her bruised and throbbing cheek further into his chest, regardless of the pain. Her eyes closed and she held her breath in anxiousness. His sudden silence wasn't reassuring.

Finally, his hand gripping her side squeezed in agreement, and his lips rested on the crown of her head this time. "I can call him tonight, but I don't think he'll see us until tomorrow." He whispered. Her breath came out in a ragged and weary sigh, and her closed eyes opened in relief.

"That's perfect, that's perfect." She changed, trying to both reassure him and herself. He began to gently rock her back and forth, and he kissed the crown of her head carefully before he began to pull away.

She let him place her back in the passenger's seat, her arms moving from his chest to around her own body. She tried to apply minimal pressure to the bump, but it felt as if she were holding an ice cube in her hand. She needed to either let it melt away into nothing, or move it into a safer, better place for storage. Even if watching it cool only left her own teeth chattering and her temperature dropping dangerously low.

She felt his eyes on her cheek. She felt them go to the bruise on her left eye, the knick on her forehead. The handprint on her wrist and bruising skin. She felt his gaze, ending on her covered stomach. She placed her hand on the possible bruise, a mark that her arms had taken most of the impact of. Hopefully, enough to keep _her_ safe.

Percy didn't speak. He simply put the Charger into drive and pulled away from the curve. This time, his driving was slow and smooth, the engine purring and traffic noises miles away. His arm still snaked over to her, and she took his hand willingly into her own. As the monotonous atmosphere thickened, the warmth from Percy radiated towards her still, keeping his embrace alive. She let her eyes close and drifted into the black oblivion sleep was for her.

…

The voices whispered at the edge of her consciousness, twisting and distorting the black oblivion that she was in. They beckoned her to return. To get back to the real world, to re-enter the struggles that sleep took away from her. She tried in vain to lull herself back into the dark, away from all the trouble and pain she'd caused herself. But it was an unwinnable battle, seeing as all she ended up doing was shift herself further away from her sanctuary.

Eventually, her eyes opened. It was sideways, but her mind made the connection after only a few moments, even in the darkness. She saw a wooden cabinet with a flat screen resting snugly in the alcove. A coffee table with a wooden frame and glass top. Coasters rested haphazardly in her vision, a solitary red see through plastic cup sitting up right in front of her eyes. A potted plant rested beside the cabinet, on the shag brown carpet. A single, bright yellow line cut through the floor, like a beam of light.

Her hands that had fallen asleep beneath her tested their fingers experimentally, the smooth fingertips sliding roughly against some sort or scratchy fabric. She tried to sit up, but her groggy reflexes could only get her about halfway. With a frown, she realized that there was another cloth under her partially; a blanket of some sort. She shifted her weight until her hand wasn't supporting her weight and the blanket was out from under her.

She sat up carefully, looking around till she had a better idea of where she was. As she thought, she sat on a sofa of some sort. A large, evergreen couch that she sunk into almost. The throw pillow under her head had a distinct diamond pattern adorning the front. The shelves and clocks around the room reminded her of the one and only time she visited her grandparents on her father's side. She thought, for at least a moment, that it was what she would define as a real _home._ She'd tried to convince her father to let her live with them in New Jersey, and he'd almost done it as well.

They'd died shortly after he'd agreed.

She realized that the beam of light she'd seen on the carpet was coming from the adjacent room through two wooden sliding doors. The crack left the sliver of light in, giving her just the slightest portal into the next room. And although she couldn't _see_ what was going on through the door, the thin walls did nothing to muffle the voices beyond.

It sounded as though people were having dinner in the next room over. Silverware scraped against glass, cups occasionally bumped against wood. Annabeth caught a whiff of what smelled like mashed potatoes, and her stomach began to mutter angrily at the prospect of going hungry. The light, mixed in with the fantastic aromas and dinner time noises, made Annabeth's heart ache for anything like what must lay beyond the door.

But, as she'd previously noted, the walls were thin. The voices that had pulled her from her rest were in the room beyond. They must've been in the middle of a heated discussion, because she hesitated at their tones. One individual stood out among the others. "-too dangerous here. He'll figure it out and have full access to them if he realizes she's here." Percy. It had to be Percy. His tone was full of aggravation, and she could imagine his hands in front of him, displaying his message, though she had no idea what he was saying.

She put a pin in that thought while another voice joined in; higher pitched, reedy voice. He let out a bleat of laughter before he spoke. "Bwa-ha-ha! Percy, no offense, but I'm not exactly much to them anymore. They don't even _remember_ me, I'm sure." The mysterious voice said. Annabeth heard hollow metal tap against hollow metal, and she knew that this mystery individual was emphasizing his point. Percy remained silent, but still a fork scraped against glass. "If it's money you're concerned about-"

Percy cut the man off. "Money. Isn't. The problem. I'm just- I'm worried about them, and I _know_ he's going to try and find her. He's always been jealous, and if he finds out _you guys_ are involved…" He let his statement drift off, and even the sound of cluttery was silenced. Annabeth could hear her heart beating steadily. She almost thought she was discovered, but then a new voice chimed in. A young woman.

"We understand, Percy. Grover and I have had our fair share of rotten luck, and you've always supported us. Let _us_ support _you_ for a change. Please." She pleaded. The sound of chair- the one nearest to the door Annabeth had inched forward to -being pushed back broke through the silence. She could tell it was Percy. She could feel his dissuasion through the wall. But as quick as a flash another chair was pushed back and she heard a hand hook onto cloth.

"She'd be _safe_ here, Percy. We can be there almost twenty four seven, if we have to." The man said sternly. "Tell me there's ever going to be a better offer. If you can say that, then I'll let this all go." The hand, probably from the mystery man, let go of Percy's shirt. Again, silence hung above the room.

Annabeth understood enough of what was being said. To pull her out of her life, away from her situation at home, and far away from her father and stepmother… Her heart leapt at the thought. The aroma of the room, sage and pine, gave her further reassurance. Even in the dark of a strange place, she felt welcome. Perhaps not loved or wanted yet, but _welcome_ was a great start.

But her heart was getting ahead of itself, and her mind had to process what that really meant. She'd be away from her childhood home. Away from her brothers, the boogers they were at times. No more memories of her mother when the lingering scent of worn leather reached her nose. No reading with her head against the out reaching window while she listened to the rain. No more quirks and personality her home had to offer. All of it gone.

She tightened her hand into a fist, butting her lower lip and wincing. Was Stanford not supposed to be an escape as well? A reprieve and final exit from the abuse? Her brothers would always have her phone number, though it was a weak substitute. But she could put forth the effort, couldn't she?

Before Percy could speak Annabeth's palm pressed against the door. It opened with a soft whine from the hinges.

She was in a beautiful little kitchen/dining room, with a polished wood table and light having above it. Messy countertops stacked with cutting boards and dirty dishes, and an oven with a few pot holders hanging from the handle. The soft, yellow light made the room feel so much more like home than her own house was.

The table was stacked with plates of food. Mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, buttered rolls, and a few other choice meal items that left her stomach rumbling and mouth watering. The window that overlooked a river (East, she thinks) told her the sun was just starting to set.

Percy seemed to be the least surprised out of the three of them. He simply stared, his unwavering gaze and straight face giving her room and permission to do whatever she wanted. There was a curly, reddish/brown haired man with a goatee, his expression one of surprise and embarrassment, as if not comfortable with being caught gossiping. A set of crutches remained at his side. The third and final occupant was a redhead with bright, grass green eyes. Her features were impish, and she gave Annabeth a hesitant smile.

"You're up." Percy said, taking a step towards her. He looked almost… hesitant, the way he seemed to stop himself from getting closer. He gestured quickly to a fourth table setting, right between Percy and the other woman in the room. "Why don't you eat with us? Please." He added, almost as an afterthought. She kept eye contact with him, not speaking.

She swept her gaze around the kitchen again, back at the two other people in the room. They both looked to be in their twenties, and the woman gave her another small smile, while who Annabeth assumed to be the woman's husband grunted softly, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding her gaze. She bit her lip, undecided on what she wanted to do. Another quick smell however, reminded her of what she was possibly missing. "Thank you." She said, taking a seat.

Percy sat back in his chair as well, watching her. The two other people in the room introduced themselves as Grover and Juniper, and they didn't say much after that. She ate with them, and they chatted idly about themselves. Juniper owned a florist shop two floors below them, and Grover told Annabeth about his job at Hot Topic across the river. It was all small talk, made to make her feel more comfortable, she supposed. She mentioned her job at the Megaplex, and they listened intently.

Percy had grabbed her hand under the table while Juniper spoke about how she'd met her husband, and Annabeth had grown accustomed to the feeling. What made her heart leap into her throat was when his thumb began to trace patterns into her knuckles. She didn't understand why this moment was different, it just was. He didn't let go, and Annabeth found herself wanting to lean a little bit towards him.

They didn't ask about her. They didn't ask about the marks. She wasn't sure if she cared or not. They just accepted what she'd said about herself.

It was after Juniper said that she was going to start clearing the table that Annabeth felt his hand squeeze around hers firmly. She was prompted to look at him, and when her eyes met his she saw that even though the fire was back, so was that softer, more gentle side. A look of caring and concern that almost made her look away. Almost.

"We're going to go on a walk for a few minutes, okay guys? Don't wait up on us." Percy said, giving her hand another squeeze. She sensed his hesitance for a moment, and understood his question: ' _do you want to go on a walk with me?'_

She squeezed his hand immediately in agreement. As he stood, she stood with him. He was making his way to the door when she realized that she didn't have any shoes or socks on. Her feet had been wrapped in gauze, but she'd neglected to grab any shoes before running away. Her sweater wouldn't be much against the cold, either.

"I don't have any shoes." She said, tugging at Percy's arm like a child. And maybe, with the pleading look in her eyes she must have and breakdown earlier this afternoon, that was how she should be treated. Like a child. She was fragile, and even if she didn't like it he was going to treat her that way. He wasn't wrong. She felt as breakable as glass.

Percy stopped, but looked helplessly at her feet. "Juniper, is it alright if Annabeth borrows some shoes?"

She didn't even turn from where she was at the counter, putting leftovers into tupperwares. "I have a few extra pairs of sneakers, Annabeth. Percy, show her where they are, please?" She asked. Percy nodded, leading Annabeth past the door to the living room and into a narrow hallway. They went past two doors before reaching what appeared to be a laundry room.

She went in first, and for what seemed to be tradition his hand pressed softly against the small of her back. He guided her to stand beside a dual washer/dryer, while he ventured further into the room- about five feet before he hit the opposite wall. Up above him was a cupboard, and he opened it slowly. Meanwhile, Annabeth sat down on the washer, ducking so as not to hit her head on the dryer.

She found herself watching him, which was strange without him staring back. His black sweatshirt was tight against his back, and his hood was the same black as his hair. In the dim half-light the room offered, Annabeth felt like she was watching ink in water, shifting like a see through curtain, trying to hide his form from her. She blushed when she noticed his muscles on his arms, as looked away in embarrassment. It was creepy, staring at him like this.

Yet, she didn't complain when he stared unabashedly at her. Not anymore.

When he faced her again, he held a pair of old, beat up Adidas in one hand and a small blue satchel in the other. He must've understood her confusion, because he shook the bag lightly. "I figured we could change your gauze now, and then if you still want to go on a walk we can." He explained. He waited again for an answer, and she nodded.

He unwrapped her bandaged feet carefully, and even though it hurt she refused to wince. He went slowly, peeling off each layer with patience. It was strange, but when he reached the final bandage she welcomed the slow removal. Her left foot had cuts on the bottoms, but calluses had kept her sole from damage. Percy inspected carefully, and for some reason it made her blush.

He pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a soft cloth, dampening it. He hovered the rag over her foot, then looked in the eye. "This is going to sting." He warned.

She opened her mouth then, rolling her eyes as well. "In that cas-" her breath came out in a sharp gasp when the cloth touched her foot. He frowned in sympathy, but otherwise gave no comment. He quickly put on a new, fresher bandage and then repeated the same with her other foot. He went to put her shoes on for her, but she didn't let him. "I can tie my own shoes, Percy." She'd said, putting each foot on top of the dryer. They fit snugly, though her feet had been swelling a bit lately.

When she stood back up, he led her back towards the apartment door. Grover and Juniper were both doing the dishes, whispering quietly to one another. Annabeth likes them, though she didn't voice it. Juniper seemed kind, willing to get to know her if Annabeth agreed to it. Grover had seemed stony and callous, but Annabeth hadn't failed to notice the flickering smile he gave as his wife spoke.

They had to go down two flights of stairs, into a side alley, and then past a chain link fence before they reached the street. It was dark out, which isn't normally a good time of night to be out at, but Percy seemed content. Actually, he looked more put together. More in his element. The streetlights illuminated his smile, and Annabeth felt her heart leap into the air when his eyes reflected off of the light. His hair was hidden by his hood, but the few strands that stuck out looked next to untamable. It gave him a boyish quality that Annabeth admitted to finding it attractive.

Annabeth felt each footstep hurt her feet, but didn't comment on it, fearing he'd make her go back inside. The cool night air was refreshing, and each breath brought her closer to comfort. The streets were abandoned, as empty as they were that night in Brooklyn. She'd questioned her sanity, following him that night. It almost scared her, how she trusted him so easily. Still, with his hand in hers, they crossed the street and went through a series of alleyways before Annabeth could hear water.

The river was dirty, murky, and she wouldn't be caught dead swimming in it, but she couldn't deny its silent beauty as she walked alongside it. The lights from across the river reflected against the constantly churning water. When Percy's pace slowed, she understood that they were both ogling the view across the river: Annabeth had been wrong; at this angle she understood she was across the Hudson, not East river. The Empire State Building, Dare Enterprises, the Chrysler… all those beautiful skyscrapers.

' _In another twenty years, one of those could be yours'_ her thoughts reminded.

They had been walking along the sidewalk for about twenty minutes before they came across a park bench. Percy squeezed her hand, drawing her attention away from the magnificent light show. "Let's sit down for a while." He suggested. "If you want to, I mean." He hastily amended. Annabeth rolled her eyes, but silently appreciated that he asked so often now.

"Sounds nice." She said, taking a seat. Again, she'd been wrong, this time about the weather. Her sweater was just the right amount of protection against what little cold the first week of April had brought. Spring was just around the corner, and it was nice to see the snow disappear so rapidly.

Percy still kept her hand in his, and they both kept admiring the skyline. It was better, without her feet throbbing dully. They sat in mutual silence, the water lapping against the rocky shore below them. Then, Percy started rubbing his thumb over her knuckles again. This time she was able to control her blush, but the surprise she felt was still there.

Although they sat in the gap between two streetlights, Annabeth could feel that uncertain fire trying to burn a hole into her skull. She could feels those waves of heat lapping against her skin like the water on the rocks. The air was slowly building tension, and she understood that he wanted to say something. It almost surprised her how well she could read him, though in reality they'd only spent a collective 72 hours together.

Though, when it came to him the rules she'd made for herself didn't seem to apply.

There was just something _about_ Percy Jackson. He was mysterious, with rumors tugging at him like the wind. He wasn't half bad looking, with his dark hair and intimidating eyes that burned like a fire. The way he seemed both shy and confident at the same time made her curious, but even then that wasn't why she slept with him.

He'd _listened._ Not like Luke, offering solutions to her problems and trying to be the knight in shining armor. He wasn't the kind of boy that nodded along and offered cheesy puns that wouldn't have made her feel better. When he'd accidentally stepped into the same unoccupied bedroom as her at the New Years Eve party, he hadn't left her there crying. He'd sat down beside her, asked what was wrong, and let her rant.

She'd told him about Luke, her work, her parent's high expectations without any reward (but she didn't mention the abuse), her dreams of Stanford and how she wasn't sure she would even be going still. She talked about everything, pouring out her soul to him and pretending he wasn't there all at the same time. He didn't speak, didn't interrupt her. He kept eye contact, and when she was done he'd surprised her by pulling her into a hug.

She'd been shocked, to say the least. His embrace was surprisingly warm and comforting, something that made her want to relax fully into his chest and melt into him. His left hand rested on the small of her back, and his right hand rested against the side of her head that wasn't pressed into his chest. His heartbeat was steady, as soothing as waves lapping against a beach. She'd sighed in content, feeling at least somewhat relieved.

But it was when his left hand had travelled to her closed fist, and he'd gently pried it open. He didn't speak, and acted as though she hadn't stiffened. He'd removed the pills from her palm, wordlessly putting them off to the side of the bed. She'd flushed with embarrassment and shame, trying to shy away from his gaze, but he'd just tightened his hold on her.

" _You're stronger than that, Annabeth. Don't let anyone tell you different."_ He'd muttered into her hair. She'd blushed, and felt tears stinging at her eyes because _no one_ had ever told her anything like that before. No one had seen she'd needed those words, including herself. " _He's an idiot, you know."_ He'd said. " _He didn't know what he had."_

She was… surprised, to say the least. Percy was always so quiet in school, basically a societal leper. No one would think of him as caring, or helpful, or loving, but Annabeth felt _good_ with him beside her. They'd both pulled away for a moment, and then Annabeth had kissed him. It wasn't needy, or rushed. He held her close and they took it slow. One thing led to another…

"I was hoping you would tell me about what happened today." He asked.

Her skin felt frosted over, and when she realized she was staring she looked away quickly. She focused on the streetlight twenty or so feet down the path, pretending to have not heard him. She couldn't meet his gaze. "I saw the bruises, Annabeth. Is everything okay at work? Or at home?" He asked, his tone quieter than before. They had that in common: a fear of the wind, water, or any inanimate object telling their secrets.

"Everything's fine." She muttered, still not looking at him. She really doubted she'd make a convincing case against him. Again: he was the exception. "I'm fine."

She could feel the fire heating up. His thumb rubbing on her knuckles sent shocks up her arm. "No, you're not." He insisted, and his gaze left her back. Curiosity took over, and as she turned to look towards him his gaze was fixed on Manhattan again. His jaw was set in a harsh line. "I don't think you like lying to yourself, so you can stop." He said, a stronger tone emphasizing his words.

"I don't want to talk about it." She said after a long moment of thought. She decided the lights across the water were more comforting than the bulb of the streetlight. Percy's tone sounded a bit… Rough. She didn't like it. "It's nothing I need to worry about anymore, anyways." She said. "I heard what you guys were talking about. I'll do it."

Percy grunted, although didn't sound surprised that she'd been eavesdropping. "So it's at home?" He said, and a hot needle pricked at Annabeth's skin.

"It doesn't matter." She insisted. She really didn't feel comfortable about talking to him about this. "And how do you know if it's at home or work, huh? Maybe I was mugged or robbed, did you think of that?" She said defensively. She pulled her hand out of his.

He didn't speak. He didn't try to grab her hand again. His fingers interlocked with each other and he looked at them intently. "You didn't have shoes on, so you must've run straight out of your house. A mugger might take shoes, but they don't normally beat up their victims unless-" he suddenly got really quiet. "Annabeth… did anyone try to touch you? _Was_ it a mugger? Did they try to-"

She cut him off. "No. Nothing like that." She assured him. The sigh of relief he gave made her shiver though. The idea of it being anyone like that scared her more than she would ever admit. Especially with a baby growing in her. She suddenly felt exposed in the darkness between two lights. Pairs of eyes danced in the tall grass… but Percy was there. He'd protect her, right? She was only seeing ghosts.

"You still had your phone. You had those bruises… Annabeth, you know you can trust me, right?" He whispered. She heard the serious questioningly important tone in his voice. She honestly wasn't sure if she could.

He hadn't told her who he was, or if he was a criminal. He'd sent her these _huge_ mixed messages at the police station, and she'd been confused since. All she had was a handful of rumors, and those were too unreliable. She knew next to _nothing_ about Percy Jackson. She stayed silent.

"I trust you, you know." He said, his voice taking on a neutral ring. "You can tell me anything. I won't judge, or tell anyone. I'm not like that." He promised. She wasn't sure what she was more insulted by: the insinuation that she _didn't_ trust him, or the insinuation that she thought he was a bad person. The word phrasing made it seem like he was accusing her of something. The needle burned hotter.

"What if I just don't want to talk about it? And do you _care_ if I trust you?" She said, anger playing with her words. "We aren't even friends, Percy. I know nothing about you, you know nothing about me. The only reason I'm here is because I'm not going to make sure you never know your kid. That's it." She promised, still not making eye contact. Her arms crossed as the wind started to pick up.

He was quiet. Really, _really_ quiet, and she knew why. Their only real equal ground was the fact the baby in her womb was his, and they never talked about it. They danced around the subject like a crumbling dance floor. Eventually someone would fall.

"Is that how you want it then? You're doing this out of guilt? Talking to me _out of guilt?"_ He asked, bewildered.

"Isn't that what _you're_ doing?" She accused. "We didn't even _talk_ in high school. There's only one thing that changed, if I'm not mistaken."

She could feel his building rage, and she knew that she'd probably regret her words later. Now, however, she would stick by them. Even if they never looked at each other again because of it. She looked at the skyline again. At the buildings.

' _That could be yours in twenty years'_ her thoughts repeated. ' _Will he really be beside you, a child beside_ him _?'_

The silence was consuming, and she guessed that he'd take her back to the apartment soon and leave her overnight. Maybe he'd just take her home, and let her deal with her problems alone. She was better off that way, right? She'd never needed anyone before. He'd leave, and he'd never return. She'd be surprised if a child support check showed up in the mail.

"My step dad killed my mom."

Her head nearly spun all the way around in its neck to see his face, daring him to lie to her like that again. She almost screamed at him right then, because a sob story wasn't going to convince her otherwise. She hesitated though, when she saw his eyes and his sneer. He stared at the water like he wanted to murder it. Like he wanted to get even.

"He was a beat cop from Harlem, and mom never told me why they got married. I was seven, but I _knew_ it wasn't out of love. He'd beat me every day, and said that if my mom figured it out he'd start beating her, too." He said. He rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance. "But he was smart. He told my mom the opposite. We both went five years before we figured it out on our own. She threatened to call the police, and he went ballistic." Percy said.

"I hid in the bathroom and called 911 while they fought. I was so scared Annabeth, hearing them fighting for his gun in the other room." He admitted. Annabeth couldn't force words out of her mouth. "It went off. The silence was worse than the fighting. When the police got there, I was shoved into the back of a cop car and spent the next three months proving what a walking pile of garbage he was. Pete and Tyrone were gambling buddies. That's one of the reasons they hate me."

He laughed without humor. "He's upstate now, and in twenty years I have to go back in and try to make sure he never gets parole. Every night, I have to think about how I'm one day closer to seeing him out on the street again." He said.

Annabeth was looking right at him, but now he wasn't meeting her gaze. His sneer was positively malevolent. "I've _had_ those bruises, Annabeth. Don't pretend I'm stupid, because I'm not. I care about you and the kid, and for more than just because she's mine and you're the mother. Can I prove that to you? I don't know." He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "That doesn't mean it's a lie."

Annabeth was quiet for a long time. Her toe stepping had only made him angry. In return, she still felt hot anger boiling in her stomach. "Yes." She said impatiently. "Fine. I'm moving in with your friends because I'm trying to get away from my abusive parents. Happy?"

Percy looked her dead in the eyes, and she felt that shiver return to her spine. His voice was still stuffed with annoyance. "No. But it's a start." He said. "What else do you want to know about me? I'll answer one hundred percent honestly, but you have to answer _my_ questions in return. Deal?"

She scoffed, though her pride was beginning to ebb away. "Why would I play twenty questions with you?" She asked. Though, she already guessed he knew her well enough to have an answer. Maybe, just maybe, she was _his_ exception as well.

"Because you're curious. So am I. Let's trade answers." He offered, though he still sounded a bit ticked off. Annabeth felt a scowl crease her brow, and each word still made her want to punch him in the face. Her hormones might've been acting up, but if that were the case she'd just say the baby made her hit him. She couldn't deny that she wanted to talk to him, get to know him better…

A question game. A cheesy, corny, getting-to-know-you kind of game. A _game_ in general. She raced through the questions anyways, because this could be good. She knew what she _wanted_ to ask. She wanted to know if her kid was going to be in a crime family. She wanted to understand who she had gotten into bed with. She wanted to know if she was in danger.

Yet…

It wasn't the right time. It wasn't a good idea. She didn't know why, but she knew how she felt. Percy might answer the question, but… maybe, just maybe… she wasn't ready for the answer. Not yet.

"You knew that I was pregnant three weeks after New Years. How? _I_ didn't even know then." She admitted, wanting an answer to a question that had irked her for months now. She wasn't looking at him, but she knew that he spoke with a softer tone than before. She swore that he sounded _pleased_ about her observation, even.

"Okay, so at first I was thinking about talking to you again, or at least trying to get the courage to. Then, when I tried to approach you, you'd run into the bathroom. At first I thought you were avoiding me, but then I figured that couldn't be it… I just guessed, really." He said.

Annabeth felt her cheeks colored slightly, because she understood what he was getting at, and it confused her. _Was he going to ask me out? Was he planning on trying to… go on a date? With me?_ The questions only kept circling her, tauntingly close. _Then why… why did he act like I was just a cover story if he was interested in me?_ Could he have been lying? Was he lying now?

First question, and she had a dozen more swarming her.

Then his answer fully sunk in. "You _guessed?"_ She said, bewildered. He had the decency to look embarrassed. Embarrassed by what, she didn't know. His cheeks became as red as hers, and even though the wind was picking up she knew it wasn't the cold.

"I was worried, okay? Then you got up during Mythology… I wanted to help. I still do." He said. When she didn't answer right away he seemed to panic, and stuttered through an excuse. "I-I mean, y-y-you guessed too, r-right?" He asked.

She rolled her eyes and was reminded of how, just earlier that day, she'd been giving her brother the same look due to a slipup on a math problem. It was almost… comical, the way that they compared. He looked shy again, and she was reminded of the childlike innocence her brother had. A strange look for a criminal. "Yes, but I had a hormonal imbalance and started to empty my stomach every other hour. It was kind of a dead give away for me." She said.

He had been looking away from her, but now he grunted and looked at her, examining her face. His eyes seemed to ghost over her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead… examining her bruises. "You were throwing up that often?" He asked, biting his lip and scrunching his eyebrows together. "That can't be healthy, right? How bad was it?" He asked, and the concern in his voice left her eyebrow raised.

"It could've been worse. I should've probably skipped a few school days, but my… my dad convinced me that my education was too important to waste. And I wasn't about to let him know why I was staying home." She said.

"I'm sorry." He blurted out. When she didn't speak, he continued. "It's still my fault, right? I'm sorry."

She blinked twice, his words unexpected. She understood what he meant though, the reason that he wouldn't meet her eye. She was quick to reply this time. "It takes two to make a baby, idiot, unless you skipped that lesson in Health class. I could've stopped you, Percy. It's just as much my fault as it is yours." She assured, trying to stop the pity party Percy seemed inclined to start.

"But _I_ could've stopped, too." He said. "At least for long enough to grab… you know…" He said, running a hand through his mess of hair in embarrassment. Annabeth rolled her eyes again, wondering what words Percy _did_ use. 'Condom' wasn't apparently in his vocabulary.

"Well, you didn't. I'm knocked up, you're the father, and in the next few weeks I'm going to swell up like a balloon. Percy, I was lonely and crying and you helped me feel better about myself for a few minutes." He looked down, almost as if he hadn't heard what he wanted to hear. He looked embarrassed. " _Then_ I decided to get into bed with you." She said, understanding what he seemed sad about.

When his head came back up to look at her, she took initiative and grabbed his hand. It only seemed right that she return the comforting favor, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles, even though her thumb only covered a small section of them. He seemed mesmerized, completely transfixed by the act of obvious affection. He held her hand close, and when he pulled her closer she didn't mind all that much.

He had her in a hug, and her ear was pressed comfortably above his heart, just as it was this afternoon. The beat was even and steady, the closest thing she might've ever had to a lullaby before. "We both made a decision, Percy, and I don't regret making decisions. Even the bad ones." She said into his chest.

When he spoke, his voice rumbled through his chest and reverberated into her ear. It tickled, filling her up with warmth. "I still shouldn't have done it." He muttered. "I wanted to, but I shouldn't have." His hands rubbed up and down her back, and the wind didn't seem so strong anymore. Her sweater and his arms combined made her sigh in bliss. Hadn't they been yelling at each other moments ago? Did his apologies hold that much weight?

She hummed in agreement to his statement. "But do you regret it?" She asked. His silence wasn't reassuring, but she understood it was because he was thinking about it. When she peeked up at him through the dark, his eyes were focused on the water. She took a chance. "I think… I think that maybe I would've liked to know you better before…" Now _she_ couldn't say it. What was he doing to her? "But we're too different. From two different places, you know?"

His grip on her hand tightened slightly. "I want to make this work." He said, almost in a whisper. "Not just getting along, but actually being parents. I never got that from my dad, and you never got that from your mom." Annabeth shivered at the reminder of just _how much_ Percy knew about her, yet she still knew close to nothing. It scared her a little. Percy continued, his rumbling chest trying to reassure her. "Not just for the kid's sake, either. I want _this-"_ he shrugged his shoulders in what she guessed was emphasizing all of them "-to be real. Or, at least to give it, _us,_ a chance."

Annabeth closed her eyes, hearing but not ready to comprehend the statement completely. His hands still ran up and down her back, and she supposed that the way she was now nearly sitting in his lap was a mixed message in its own. She held on tighter though, instead of pulling away. His hands ghosted along her sides, to her arms, back down to her lower back, rhythmically trying to warm her up to the idea he was pitching.

She could imagine it, she guessed. She could see herself in a few months, waking up groggily to an apartment almost identical to Grover and Juniper's. She wasn't on the bed though, but instead she was on the couch. She wasn't alone, either. A tangle of dark hair is nuzzled into her neck. Light seeps in from a window, along with the noise of traffic… It's just a beautiful day in NYC, and the night before Percy and her had both been watching a movie…

She's sighing blissfully, his hands that rest around her stomach tightening their grip at the noise. A smirk plays at her lips… Suddenly she hears a happy, gurgling laugh from across the room.

Annabeth is still wrapped in his embrace, but when she looks up, she sees the baby's chubby hands, reaching towards the sky from inside of a crib, beautifully crafted and laced with blue ribbon. Another happy gurgle, another day with these two…

Annabeth opens her eyes, completely and utterly awestruck at her own thoughts. His hands still traveled around her back, and his heart kept thumping beneath her. How… How had that image been so _vivid?_

The cold and dark are lurking behind her, but in Percy's arms all she can feel is light and warmth. She feels _safe,_ and that's something Luke himself couldn't manage some days. Her head was rested so nicely against him, and the way he made her feel was beyond anything she'd ever felt before. Not just physically, but the way that he seemed to seamlessly fit into her life without opposition and rest snugly beside her.

It scared her.

But it also made her feel alive.

"'Us' does sound nice." She admitted, and the dread she was afraid would follow that statement never came. Instead it was replaced by his chest deflating beneath her, and with a smirk she realized he'd been holding his breath. "But it's just a test run. To see how we work together, and if we can even do… _this."_ She said, shrugging her shoulders as he had. She looked upwards, needing to see his face as he replied.

He was already looking back down at her, his gaze passionate. The fire, the burning that she'd been trying to grow accustomed to was as bright as the high beams on a car, but lacking the sting or burn. Instead, he looked at her like he'd just woken up on Christmas morning and found something under the tree he'd been waiting for all of his life. Annabeth's heart leapt into her throat, seeing that look on his face. That look made only for _her._ "Deal." He said, and when his lips pressed against her forehead she had to stop the blush from invading her cheeks.

" _You'd look at things in the toy catalog, too, if you remember,"_ something inside her sneered. " _and you'd get it, occasionally play with it- and eventually break it and throw it away."_ Annabeth was still focused on Percy"s face. The voice playing at the back of her mind was insistent. " _You and the baby are just another toy for him."_

His hands continued their rotations, up and down her back, moving in a relaxing and almost careful way. His fingers ghosted over her back, and the goosebumps she was getting responded in kind. His eyes, still fiery, gave off warmth. They gave her a feeling of comfort and belonging, of love and affection. But could be already _love_ her? Was that possible?

She had to be careful. She had to be wary. Percy could promise her the moon, but without action it was just words. It was all just a few lost phrases. Trust, compassion, love… It was all earned. He had to earn it from her.

Then again, hate was earned as well.

Luke had earned her trust _and_ hate. Piper, Frank, Thalia… They'd all earned her friendship, and Luke had made it beyond anyone; but they had all left as well. They never _meant_ to, but that didn't mean it didn't happen. She even liked to believe that Luke felt bad, and as Percy had said 'didn't know what he'd given up'. Percy had recognized it. Percy had told her that.

She'd give him a chance. A chance to earn her trust. It was more than what most got. The vivid image of a happy apartment life seemed to overtake the voice. It made her feel… hopeful. Wanting.

She remembered what she'd agreed to, and realized how off track they'd gotten. This wasn't a cheesy getting-to-know-you game anymore. This was apparently going to be emotional and heartwarming. Maybe even soul searching. She took a deep breath, sighing. Her breath ghosted across his chest, and his breathing stuttered. "What do you want to ask me?" She whispered quietly, in the dark.

He paused, and again Annabeth understood his need to think it through. To gather his thoughts. When he took a breath to speak, she expected a question that led into an intense discussion, like hers. "I was planning on talking to you, but I never told you why." He whispered back. Annabeth was looking at his face again, and his neck craned to look at her. "I want you to guess. Why do you think I wanted to talk to you again?"

She would be lying if the she'd said the question hadn't made her think. She ruled out those points she'd tried to justify outside of the bathroom all those weeks ago. He wasn't after her for more sex. He wasn't some pervert. He was a shy, introverted boy who probably only ever spoke to his mother before she'd been killed. His only friends appeared to be a questionable Doctor, a florist and her husband.

It sounded… It sounded like he'd been trying to make another friend.

"You wanted to get to know me better." She said. "You wanted to… Ask me out?" She asked, and immediately panicked at the idea of her being way off base. There could be dozens of reasons to talk to her again. Why would he be asking her to go out on a _date_ with him? It wasn't possible. Preposterous. _In her dreams._

"Would you have said yes?"

She froze. Completely and utterly 'scared stiff'. His hands had paused their massage, and with the stillness she could almost imagine time freezing like that. Even his breathing had stopped as he waited for her answer. The only indication that the Earth was still rotating was the gentleness of the wind, whistling lightly against her ears. His gaze was frozen on her as well, but when she hadn't answered for a decent ten seconds he bit his lip.

Would she have said yes? Would she have risked it all again, only a few weeks after Luke's betrayal? Would she have been able to see Percy's face without imagining blond hair and icy blue eyes? Would she even want a relationship afterwards?

"No." She whispered, the honesty making her words clear and precise. Percy looked away then, his cheeks aflame and eyes downcast. She understood what he _thought_ she meant, but sadly his mind was still far behind her own. She rolled her eyes. " _But,"_ She emphasized, "I bet if you ask again right now, the answer could possibly be different."

His smile was enough to make her say yes when he stuttered through the question.

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	7. Fourteen Weeks

**Hey Guys!**

 **New Chapter, New Drama! Remember to drop a review and guess what happens next! Might give a sneak peek to whoever guesses correctly! Thank you, to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Things are going to start turning a bit... _Angsty._ And let me be clear: You will probably screech a little at the end of this chapter. I take payments in death threats, but that isn't necessary for me to continue writing. These chapters, as you know, are long. I'm thinking of instead of updating every week, I'd update every week and a half.**

 **Don't be mad. I'm trying really hard to develop this type of writing style and sound way more sophisticated than I actually am.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I Am Not Rick Riordan.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

 _(Fourteen Weeks)_

She'd called ahead to Reyna, telling her that she was quitting just as soon as she'd gotten back to the apartment. Percy and her had stayed on that bench for two whole hours, getting to know each other better. None of the big questions, though. Nothing remotely close the first question Annabeth had asked. The phrase 'What's your favorite _' usually led to smaller, almost childish qualms. They'd argued about how 'blue dye couldn't possibly make something taste better,' and 'no Annabeth, reading ten books in one week isn't a good pastime.'

The arguments were just for passing time, and they usually ended in laughing or simply moving fluidly to another topic. Honestly, Annabeth had felt good. Really good, just sitting beside him and talking till one in the morning.

But when the wind that had been steadily picking up took to throwing her hair into his face repeatedly, she'd said that she was ready to go back to Grover and Juniper's. He'd agreed immediately, and had helped her stand up. Instead of just grabbing her hand, he'd draped his arm around her. She'd responded with raising an eyebrow at him, and when he'd realized what he'd done he'd stuttered through an apology.

She simply rolled her eyes, he didn't move his hand from her upper arm, and quite frankly she didn't protest. Just to make him feel a little less goofy, she'd wrapped her slender arms around his waist, right where his shirt met his jeans, and pulled him closer. The blush that had crept up his neck had only made her smile a little more.

He'd taken her all the way up to the door, told her that he'd text her tomorrow about the ultrasound, and given her a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

As she'd closed the door behind her and found herself back into the kitchen, across from the living room, she'd placed her back against the door and let her head rest against the wood. The barest, quietest of sighs came out of her mouth and the smallest of smiles graced her lips. The cheek he'd kissed didn't feel so numb from the cold and didn't throb like it had been before the walk.

Annabeth had silently tiptoed back into the living room, and slipped silently under the covers. It had been a busy, full day, topped off with emotional trauma and a midnight walk with Percy. Was it really that hard to understand then, why she physically could _not_ convince her body to sleep?

She tried in vain, looking upwards towards the ceiling and counting blemishes in the sheet rock. She counted backwards from one hundred, she closed her eyes and tried to let the exhaustion her feet had been feeling transfer to the rest of her body. Really, she just needed to sleep, and she _definitely_ needed to get that stupid smile off of her face.

At nearly two in the morning, she realized that she would continue to be restless the rest of the night. It was pointless, considering that she was sleeping outside of her room for the first time since New Years _and_ she'd already taken a nap. She just… she wasn't physically tired. Mentally, her mind was still digesting this new information about Percy Jackson. Specifically, how he was planning on a date.

" _More fun than the police station."_ He'd promised.

Like any other teenager, Annabeth had pulled out her phone in hopes to pass the time. She didn't really have too many social media accounts, but she scrolled through her Instagram feed intently, along with pinning more to her Pinterest boards to simply pass the time.

She ignored her messaging. There were over a dozen texts there, and she didn't have to be a genius to know who had been trying to reach her. Her father was relentless, trying to get her to come back. Not even to apologize, not to ask for her forgiveness. No, his wife wouldn't be in the 'mood' to clean or cook. That was the extent of his texts, and she wouldn't look at them in hopes to find something less aggressive. It would be in vain.

It was at that moment, lying on someone else's couch at two in the morning, that Annabeth realized she'd _never_ have to go back. She'd _never_ have to see him again. She would be eighteen in a little over three months, and legally in charge of herself. Her free hand subliminally moved down to cover her stomach, and her smile grew. Her heart felt like it could leap over the Empire State Building in one go.

Even with a baby growing inside of her, she'd never felt so alive and free. (It might've been the baby hormones helping.)

So, it only made sense that she quit work now. The natural high she was getting was giving her courage, and even though she sent a message directly from contacts instead of the messenger app, she considered herself in control.

 _I'm quitting. Last week this week._

Reyna had recently beaten out Octavian, her former manager, for the position. Annabeth didn't really consider Reyna a 'friend', but she was a fun person to be around. When it was her and five other employees, all working hard in concessions and Reyna would tell a story and make them laugh… she deserved the manager's spot. How Octavian had had it was a mystery in itself. He lacked _anything_ that would make him a good leader.

Annabeth didn't wait for an answer. She shut her phone off and set it on the coffee table, still as jittery as before. If not more so, her excitement levels were rising rapidly. It was… an amazing rush. Really, it was.

She didn't sleep, but that smile stayed on her face all night, too.

…

She was washing the last counter she'd ever have to wash in the movie theater and it was the greatest feeling she'd had while at work. It was almost a driving force, making her hand press harder against the concessions desk and go out with an accomplished feeling burning in her chest. She wanted to leave knowing that she'd _polished_ this building so well the health inspector would be proud.

Her good mood wasn't only due to her last day, though it certainly helped. What made everything better was that _all the pesky pregnancy symptoms were LEAVING._ She wasn't as tired as she was three days ago. The tenderness of her chest, her need to pee every ten minutes, the need to _puke_ twice a day… It was almost all gone. Sure, her sleep pattern wasn't regular, but she could work with that. Things had been horrible during the first trimester, and the second one was just around the corner.

Women described it as the easiest of the three, and she was ready for it. She was ready for things to get easier.

That wasn't all, either. Her relationship with Percy was firm. He was very attentive, and very eager to please her. He still went to school, but now he always visited her right afterwards and stayed with her late into the night. Even before that, he'd text her almost non stop, asking her if she was doing well or simply trying to annoy her.

He did, but even then he didn't. It was all really confusing, having Percy in her life. She couldn't say that he was a dark spot. Some days, when she'd finish her classes online, she'd think about her life only a few days before. In all actuality, Percy was a _bright light_ in her dark life. She might not have all the details about him, but she had enough for now. He was a genuinely good person to her.

Juniper and Grover were usually at work, and she got along with them well enough. Annabeth had figured out quickly that Grover had lost most the mobility in his legs during an accident, but he didn't seem bitter about it. He had his wife, and they had this level of intimacy that Annabeth wanted to strive for. They did this weird thing where they'd seem to communicate entirely through their eyes. Even when they fought (Juniper usually won).

After a few nights eating dinner with them or going out to eat (vegetarian friendly restaurants were hard to come by) she felt safe talking to them. Little bits and pieces only, though. Nothing major. Nothing like what Percy knew.

"You done admiring yourself in that, Chase?" The bitter voice of her ex-manager crowed from behind her. "Or should I report you to a manager for wasting more of my time?" Octavian sneered, starting another batch of popcorn. Annabeth rolled her eyes, switching to wiping down one of the registers. She was careful not to put too much pressure on each button, but his voice grated behind her eyes and she grit her teeth.

"Won't do you much good." She muttered under her breath. Though he didn't know that. In fact, nobody but Reyna and herself knew this was her last day. Reyna, per Annabeth's request, kept it low key and between the two of them. The work schedule hadn't even been posted yet, because then people would see and wonder why. After all, Annabeth was due for a promotion. Maybe even a co-managing position with Reyna.

So she let Octavian grumble and mutter to himself while her and the other four working concessions ignored him. He wouldn't be able to bother her any longer, so it wasn't any use shooting him any scathing comments.

Annabeth watched the minutes tick away. The clock might've been on the far side of the gigantic, open room, but she could hear each tick, see each and every twitch of the second hand as it brought her closer and closer to the end of her final shift.

A sad smile found its way onto her face, and she couldn't see why she'd want it to leave. This had been her second home, after all. Although her rag moved monotonously against the register, she felt nostalgic. This had been her first _real_ job. From fourteen, when her first manager (Thalia, of course) had broken the rule of not hiring Freshman onto the staff. The moment that she'd been given a rag and bleach spray, and she had to clean the men's room. Installing the new popcorn machine, fixing the exploding soda dispenser, installing the very register in front of her…

It was a low pay, low reward, and low enthusiasm environment. The staff was bitter and inexperienced, the candy and drinks overpriced, the uniform ridiculously purple and tasteless, and the building reeked of stale popcorn.

She was going to miss it.

She was five minutes away from stepping out as an employee when he walked into the building. It wasn't so much how he displayed himself that caught her eye, or the way he seemed panicked when he walked in. It wasn't as though anything was different compared to other days. It was a Friday, and people lost things in the theater all the time. Panicked demeanors were a normal occurrence.

But the difference between this individual and everyone else was the sense of danger she got when he walked past the ticket booth and made a beeline for customer services. She slowly stopped polishing the thoroughly cleaned register and watched. This had something to do with _her,_ she was sure.

As he got closer to customer service, she was able to inspect him closely. She wouldn't say she was 'checking him out' or anything remotely close to that action, but he seemed familiar. He wasn't even wearing anything special: dark jeans, white Vans, a red and black sweatshirt (in spring?). It wasn't a bad combination. Something she might pick out-

That sense of danger exploded inside of her and her head began to buzz. Her breath was removed from her lungs on reflex, and her vision tunneled because _he was HERE._ He was in the state, and he was in the building.

He had a darker tan than before, and that scar she'd once found handsome looked pink and distorted on his cheek. His hair matched closer to his skin color now as well, and really he looked like a tourist the way that he shifted uncomfortably in his own shoes. The way he looked guilty, just standing there at customer services.

Her hands moved on their own accord, pulling out her phone and pulling up his number. Her fingers rapidly moved over the touch screen, her distress sorting out her dyslexia and making each word precise and clear.

 _Come pick me up now, please._

She didn't take her eyes off of him, but when Reyna stepped behind the desk and asked him in there 'friendly employee' voice what she could do for him, she knew that she needed to get out _now._ She was quitting anyways, so who would care if she left a minute or so early? Octavian wasn't in control anymore. Slowly, she set the rag down and began to make her way towards the gap in the counter.

She couldn't hear what he was saying due to the roaring in her ears, but she understood he was asking for her. His intense, icy blue gaze was entirely focused onto Reyna as Annabeth started to walk towards the exit. Her hands shook at her sides, and she felt the urge to lose her lunch for the first time in a week when she thought about why he might be here. Really, he had no excuse to drag her back into his life, a he had no right to waltz back in as if nothing had happened.

Annabeth cast a glance behind her when she sensed Reyna had started to speak again. When she made eye contact with those obsidian irises, she almost thought that Reyna had pointed her out to him. A lump caught in her throat at the idea of having to confront her ex.

She nearly cried out in relief when he began marching further into the theater, towards the main bathrooms. Annabeth paused a few steps away from the doors, mouth opening and closing several times as she tried to comprehend what just happened. After collecting herself she switched her gaze to her manager behind the customer service desk, again making eye contact with Reyna. The normally stone faced girl nodded once, as if in understanding.

' _Thank you.'_ Annabeth mouthed, truly relieved that Reyna had done that. She had no idea why, of course, but she wasn't going to question what marginally good luck she'd just had. Reyna had seen her leaving early, so Annabeth wouldn't have to worry about clocking out, either. She turned back towards the doors, ready to make her escape and hopefully not return until her last paycheck showed up.

"Chase! I didn't say you could leave early, did I?! Annabeth Chase!"

Annabeth cursed Octavian's name, and simultaneously began to fast walk out of the building and into the daylight. She knew he must've heard. He must've already started to sprint towards the doors after her, if he really thought she was worth the trouble. Apparently, if it meant using his Spring Break to make the trip to New York, she was worth it to him. Perhaps, three months and two weeks ago, if he'd made that same trip she would've considered herself lucky.

Now, she didn't think it was luck. Just the universe screwing her over.

The foot traffic was normally crowded with other commuters, even in the middle of the day. Lunch dates and shopping trips, errand runners and people hailing taxis usually made using the sidewalks impossible. But, today of all days, the crowd was merely a trickle, a fraction of what it usually is. She was exposed in the streets, and he would easily find her. She started to walk, trying to remain inconspicuous.

She started replaying the moments she'd spent with him, which wasn't helping her get away. She wasn't supposed to see him again. She wasn't planning on ever seeing him again. And with the baby and Percy and her parents and and and- he was the last thing on her mind. Her last words to him had been in the first week of January, after his _new_ girlfriend had texted her and revealed the truth. She'd sent him a text telling him to stay away from her, then she'd blocked his number.

Not exactly closure, but she didn't have time for him anymore. Her Stanford letter would be arriving any day now, and Luke would only be a distraction. She stepped further from her old place of employment, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. If he thought that he could just waltz back into her life like he had a right to, he would have another thing coming. Her anger and confusion was mounting, and for just a moment she thought of turning around and punching him in the face.

Instead she forced her fists to relax as she turned another corner, closer towards where Percy told her he would park. He said that he would take her out to eat, but her appetite was going away now. Maybe if she could avoid confrontation, she could try to be in a better mood for lunch. Her pace quickened, and the want to blend into the trees planted on the sidewalk around her escalated.

"Annabeth!"

She kept moving. She was moving faster towards where she thinks Percy parked. He wouldn't be able to keep up with the car, even in New York traffic. She just needed to get away.

"Annabeth! Wait up!"

She didn't acknowledge him. She was nearly sprinting towards the other end of the block. If he had remembered where she'd told her to meet him, he'd be just around the corner.

Too late, she felt his hand on her shoulder, and she was being stopped. His touch was ice cold compared to the sunny, warm weather around her. His grip froze her, but she tucked her head away from him, deciding the bricks beside her were a better place to focus. Brick walls didn't need to deal with drama, they only seemed to witness everyone else's. 'Talking to a brick wall' was a common phrase, but she wished that she could be like that sometimes. Immovable.

"Annabeth, please. Don't ignore me." Luke pleaded, trying to get her to look at him. She closed her eyes, trying to remove the affection she'd associated with that caring tone.

' _He sounds guilty.'_ She thought offhandedly.

"I really, really don't want to do this right now." He said, still latched onto her shoulder. She switched her gaze to the sidewalk below her instead, trying to find some sort of philosophy in the pavement as well. All she could think about was how they already related: they both only ever seemed to get stepped on.

When she spoke, her voice was quiet, yet sharp. She liked to think he was surprised when the words left her mouth. "I really, really don't want to do this at all." She said. She didn't look at him, afraid that she might break in the middle of the sidewalk. "We don't have anything to talk about."

His grip on her shoulder tightened, and that sense of danger began to edge further into her system. Her mind wasn't able to tell what had changed since he'd left, but something had. His next words were clipped. Sharper. "Don't be like that, Annie. Don't push me away, after all we've been through." He said.

A scowl overtook her face. He was trying to guilt trip her into talking with him? Fine. She could play that game. "' _After all we've been through.'_ That's what I was thinking, Luke." She said, his name a curse word to her own mouth. "How long did it take before she caught your attention, huh? Or before she made a move on you? Did you reject her at first, or did you just think you could get away with it?"

The desperation was thick in his voice. "Now wait a minute, here. It wasn't like-"

Too late, Annabeth was on a roll. "Or maybe you made the first move. You got bored sending texts between classes, so you found someone a bit closer?"

"This isn't fair-"

"You didn't even have it in you to admit it to me _yourself."_

"I was going to break up with her-"

Annabeth put up a hand for silence. Very carefully, she looked upwards, until her eyes met his. He had half a foot on her, and she certainly felt smaller, but right now she couldn't care about that. Who was he, to track her down and try to talk to her? She'd completely blocked him out of her life, and he hadn't taken a hint. He was the equivalent of a sledgehammer if she was a brick wall. He had to break in, but by doing so he'd break _her._

He looked so nervous, and so miserable. His eyes were red and bags hung under them. She didn't feel a semblance of guilt, even though she knew she was the cause of his current state. If anything, this was all his fault. _She'd_ been the red eyed, tearful one in the relationship months ago. If anything, the fact he was here only _now,_ after months of being apart, disgusted her. A sense of complete disappointment washed over her.

"Were you ever going to tell me? Were you just bored of me?" It was both her greatest fears and worse situation possible, and asking him took more guts than she realized but she needed to know. Her need for truth outweighed her fear.

Her fears were confirmed. He wouldn't even meet her eyes.

He was the one looking down now. His voice was a whisper. "You have to believe me, Annie. She came onto me first. She seduced me, and I hated myself for letting her do it. I deserve everything that you're saying, and I know I messed up. But Annabeth- I want what we had before. I want to be with you, I really do. And I don't even care if it's a relationship- push me so far into the friend zone I need a submarine. Just- I want to start over. I _need_ a second chance."

Everything was quiet. Annabeth looked closer, into those big blue eyes she'd loved so much. They were always cold, yes, but when he looked at her, she liked to think they'd melt. That's how she'd describe it: melting. He would melt her, she would melt him. They fit together because they molded themselves to that.

"I forgive you." She said.

His sigh of relief was loud enough to overcome the New York traffic, his smile splitting his face in two. His hand grasping her shoulder began to creep down towards her hand, inching closer. "You won't regret this, Annie. I-"

She stepped back, out of his reach. Her left hand, the one he'd been reaching for, gripped onto her work hat. She tucked it lower onto her curls, wishing she could disappear. Instead of his touch leaving goosebumps or tingles on her skin, she felt coldness. Frostbite in mid April. "That isn't a second chance. That's me telling you you're off the hook. Go back to Stanford and leave me alone."

He blinked repeatedly, as if not understanding what she was saying. "But you said…"

Her patience snapped in half, to which she blames the baby hormones. "I said you're forgiven. Not that we ever see each other again." She explained, turning away from him and tugging her hat even lower over her hair. She truly wanted him gone, but knew if she met his shattered eyes she'd take him back. The silence he let linger began to make her skin itch.

"We're the _dream team,_ Annabeth! I've got your back, you've got mine! We don't turn away from each other just because one of us made a mistake!" He yelled angrily from behind her. Annabeth flinched at his harsh tone, but that also gave her focus. She could work with his temper, as scary it might be. She could match his tone with equal venom, if she wanted to. For her own sake, she keep her words steely, but quiet.

"We don't _do this_ to one another, either Luke. We were in a _relationship._ You're supposed to _talk to me_ about how you're feeling, and ask me how _I'm_ feeling. You're supposed to call me when you're lonely, and ask if _I_ feel lonely. You _do not_ get to track me down and waltz back into my life like nothing happened. I get that you're sorry, but honestly, I can't take it anymore." She said, shaking her head, but still not facing him. She was starting to get a headache, and the pressure of tears welling up behind her eyelids was building. She needed to leave, but it was more important she speak.

"You're giving up on me- on _us -right now!_ I'm more than sorry for what happened! It was a mistake-"

"The mistake was thinking that we could work out a long distance relationship and actually stay together, Luke. I see that now." She said. She let her heart get the better of her for a moment, turning to look him in the eye. He looked almost desperate, the way he gazed back, searching her expression for mercy. Any cracks that he could slip through and get back under her skin were covered now, though. She wasn't going to make this mistake again. Not with him. "I'm serious, Luke. If you _actually_ regret what you did, then walk away right now because it's what I want you to do."

He seemed torn between her request and his own wants, and it showed in the way he froze. She felt the slightest twinge of regret building up, but she quickly tried to shut it down. Looking at him now, she saw a reflection of herself during New Years. His unwavering mournful expression, and Annabeth heard Percy's words from the party. " _He didn't know what he had."_

Annabeth corrected that statement in her head. He did know, he just chose to ignore it. Ignore _her._ Next, she removed the guilt swelling inside of her. He had a reason, a purpose, an _answer_ as to why she was pushing him away. He'd left her wondering if her life was worth living anymore, seeing as he'd been the brightest part of her existence. Without Percy, she might not even be standing on the street right now.

Suddenly, something inside his gaze become colder. More aggressive and angry. Annabeth saw it enter his expression and the danger she'd registered was suddenly standing in front of her. He stepped closer to her, inadvertently causing her to step back. The process repeated itself several times until her back hit the brick wall and bumped her head. Still, he advanced, his much stronger hands finding a grip onto her wrists.

Her breath hitched when his face was an inch from hers, and his body pressed up around her. Her head was spinning at the feeling of his hot, angry breath against her cheek. She ducked her head away, the bill of her hat shielding her from his stare. "Listen up, _Annie."_ He whispered spitefully. "I could've been in the Swiss Alps over spring break with her, but I chose to come here. I _want_ you. Not Kelly, _you._ Doesn't that count for _anything?"_

He was breathing deeper and his tone was rapidly changing as he spoke, turning from spiteful to malicious. His hands squeezed her wrists painfully, cutting off circulation and making her wish that he hadn't appeared. That he _hadn't_ tried to win her back, or whatever his original intent had escalated to. He was scaring her, and his glare was freezing her to the bone, unlike Percy's passionate stare. This _hurt._ No one seemed to care as they walked past. No one helped her.

He seemed to be trying to get even closer, though he had to lean down to stay eye level. Still, her chest brushed his lightly and she let out an involuntary gasp. His leg got between hers, and she felt panic start to seize her. This was _not happening._ Luke, even in this crazed, anger driven state wouldn't hurt her… Would he? What really set her off was when he pushed himself against her fully, pinning her into the wall. His stomach crashed against hers, and a whole new burst of emotion slip into her mind.

She reacted in kind to what she felt, choosing to let her sudden fear and panic swell and morph into another, more powerful emotion: anger.

She used whatever strength she could find to push her back away from the wall, effectively pushing him just a few inches away. Her legs tensed as she crouched slightly, getting onto the balls of her feet. With as much force as she could deliver, she jumped upwards and smashed her head into his chin with a _Crack!_

Luke reeled backwards, releasing his grip on her wrists and moving his hands up to his mouth, his eyes widening in surprise and pain. He was staring at her as if he couldn't believe she'd just done that, and the adrenaline and rage inside her spiked dramatically. The urge to punch him multiplied.

When Luke had some sense of control back, he removed his hands and revealed just the smallest trickling of blood coming from his mouth. He must've accidentally bit his own tongue, but Annabeth only scowled. He probably deserved worse. "You should've gone with her to the Alps." She said.

The anger returned to his face, etching into his forehead and mouth. He started to take a few measured steps towards her, and Annabeth felt her fists clench at her sides. She began to anticipate where he might try to grab her.

Before he even took three steps, a hand grasped Luke's shoulder much like he'd done to Annabeth. The hand jerked him off balance, turning him towards the new opponent, and Annabeth couldn't lie and say she didn't breathe a little easier.

Percy didn't punch Luke, didn't hit him, push him, or release his grip on him. He held Luke by the shirt, a steel grip and seething expression as his only weapons. Annabeth didn't doubt that whatever fight might occur would end with one of these two in the hospital, but she didn't think Percy would do anything to Luke.

After all, _he_ listened to her.

Percy was four inches shorter, but his demeanor asserted complete control over Luke. Luke's icy blue eyes melted when they clashed with the green fire Percy kept in his irises. Annabeth could actually see the moment Luke's confidence crumbled against a guy nearly three years younger than him. When Percy spoke, his cold tone sent shivers down Annabeth's spine. "Did he hurt you?"

It took a moment for her to realize he was speaking to her. Her fists unclenched, and instead she wrapped her arms around herself. Her hands rested against her stomach, trying to remove that feeling of his stomach against the smallest of baby bumps appearing on her. "No. He was just leaving." She said, keeping her head level.

Percy nodded, looking over Luke one last time. He simply let go of Luke's sweatshirt, backing away. Still, he stood between Luke and Annabeth, keeping his steady gaze on the older boy. When he was far enough back, Annabeth reached for his hand, which he took gently in his own. Still, his gaze didn't leave Luke's. Luke's eyes locked onto their conjoined hands, but still he didn't speak.

"We need to go, too. I'd hate to miss lunch." He said, and squeezed her hand a little. She gave Luke one last disappointed look, then let Percy lead her along towards the corner. She watched as Luke disappeared from her line of sight, but Percy paid no attention to that. He opened her door like he always did, closing it as she got in. When he joined her in the car, he didn't move to turn on the engine. He simply stared ahead. Annabeth saw his tongue probing angrily inside of his mouth, unable to speak.

She took his hand in hers again, resting it between them as she stared ahead as well. The sun was filtering through a tree on the sidewalk, the lightest of breezes ruffling the leaves. If she closed her eyes, ignored the traffic, and used no small amount of imagination, she could see herself in Central Park. Sitting by a pond, or maybe walking the paths. She escaped into her mind, trying to find a calmer scene than what just played out.

"He followed you from work?" He asked, his tone more anxious than angry. She simply nodded, her eyes still closed. "I was going to go in and pick you up when you texted, but then I saw you with him." He explained suddenly, and Annabeth caught the way he was biting his lip.

"And?" She asked. It felt like there should be an 'and' in that statement.

Percy was quiet for another moment, before he squeezed her hand again. "I knew that you could handle it yourself." He said, and she opened her eyes to look at him. He was still looking ahead, but a scowl now rested on his face. "Doesn't mean I wasn't tempted to deck him." He muttered. Annabeth's lips twitched upwards.

She let go of his hand, but leaned over the gearshift until her face was even with his. Carefully, she placed a small, grateful kiss onto his cheek. Her lips lingered on the scratchy, three-days-since-I've-shaved skin and her breath puffed against his face. When she pulled back, she didn't notice the small, almost bashful smile that Percy instantly hid.

"I believe you said something about taking me to lunch? I could use a burger right about now." She said.

Percy laughed, and her chest hammered at the noise. It was close to angelic, really. It wasn't fair to other guys that he had the good looks, charm, _and_ a beautiful laugh. Really, he was a catch (but she would never admit that to him). He put the car in drive and slipped onto the road.

…

It was a bright, beautiful Saturday afternoon, with the sun shining and nearly no cloud overcasting the sky. Birds flew overhead, chirping cheerfully and giving their indication that this was going to be a good day. The traffic was there, of course, but she couldn't be bothered to care. They were stuck right beside Central Park, and with the window rolled down she could pretend that they were just going on a drive. A normal couple going on a Saturday drive, no pregnancy, no stress, and no complications. Just two people getting to know each other better.

Percy was certainly biting his tongue though, because the car directly behind them was honking furiously at the traffic jam they were stuck in. It had been stop-and-go for nearly fifteen minutes, and New York traffic was enough to make most civilized human beings go insane from the lack of progression. But when Percy had started to get riled up, his palm inching closer to his own car horn, Annabeth had taken his hand in hers with a roll of her eyes. If he started, then soon every car on the block would be howling like stray dogs. She wasn't getting a migraine today.

"You know what this always reminds me of?" He suddenly asked. Annabeth tore her gaze away from the park, instead giving Percy her attention. He hadn't so much as moved in ten minutes, since putting his car in park in the middle of the road. His head was leaning back against the seat now, eyes closed and a humored smile touching his lips. Her eyes inspected his throat, the way that his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he breathed deeply-

She forced herself to stop that. She'd been staring at him more and more frequently, and if he caught her again and flexed his muscles voluntarily _one more time,_ she'd push him out of his own car and lock the doors. It had to be the baby doing this to her, unbalanced hormones making her feel a bit… _hot_ around him. It was embarrassing, and almost made her rethink this whole date idea with him.

He'd taken _seven days_ to plan it, so she assumed that he must be doing something really amazing for her. In all honesty, she would've been fine with McDonalds drive thru and sitting in his car for an hour or two, but he had looked so _adorable_ when he got excited about it, so she'd held her tongue and grinned at his enthusiasm instead.

Besides, if he wanted to spend a fortune on her then she'd let him. It would just show him how she didn't care when he'd buy her McDonalds on the second or third date. As long as he put forth some real effort, which wasn't much to ask.

"Hmm, what?" She asked, focusing instead on his radio. Music drifted softly from the speakers, nearly inaudible with the honking and yelling outside. His smile widened slightly, which she caught out of the corner of her eye. It was a nice change from his usually guarded, blank expressions.

"Have you ever been to Coney Island?" He asked, moving his resting head to look at her. She was both mesmerized and exhilarated by his eyes. No longer fiery or intense, just that soft, oceanic green that made her want to visit the beaches East of them, over by Long Island. There was this one strawberry farm… with breathtakingly beautiful ocean access… and the most amazing view… the more she thought about it, the more his eyes compared, as if adjusting to her ideal vacation spot. Even when she shook her head 'no', she was smiling brightly.

He raised his eyebrows in obvious disbelief, but didn't break eye contact, or even sit up. He just kept his eyes on hers, and she vaguely wondered what _he_ might see when he looked into her eyes. When he spoke again, he seemed as happy as she felt, albeit a bit nervous. "It's hard to describe, but it's almost _exactly_ like being stuck in traffic. You're always in the middle of a line, everyone is talking, trying to be heard… sometimes, they have live entertainment, and the music… you'd like it there."

He said it with such conviction, such assurance, she didn't question it. She tried imagining what it could be like, going to an amusement park. Only, in this scenario, she was pushing a stroller, and an arm was snaked around her waist…

Her hand once again rested against her stomach, and Percy's gaze flickered to where her fingers rested. His expression morphed into concern, but quickly went back to his smile. She'd promised to tell him if anything felt off, and she would. Today, it would be about them. Today, they would try to see what they could accomplish together. _Then,_ they would consider thinking about tomorrow.

"I think of the school hallways at lunch, actually." She said, mimicking his position. Her neck rested against the top of her seat, and it hit _just_ the right angle, digging into a knot in the muscle. She sighed in content, lifting the hand intertwined with Percy's off of the armrest a few inches, then bringing them back down. Her lazy smile matched his. "With everyone yelling, and the Freshman trying to get into the lunch line first- hectic and slow. Loud." She elaborated, closing her eyes slightly.

Percy let out a short laugh beside her, but was abruptly cut off by the car behind them as he began to honk more insistently. Annabeth realized the car ahead of them had inched forward, and a full car-sized gap had appeared. Percy's annoyed scowl from before reappeared, and he put the car in drive and filled the gap, only to end up putting the car in park again. The driver behind them eagerly tailgated them, moving even closer to them.

"I hate stupid drivers." He said, taking her hand again. "This is New York; if they wanted clear traffic, they should've stayed in-" he checked the back mirror, adjusting until he saw a license plate. His face scrunched up in distaste. "- Minnesota." He said. Annabeth was surprised he could even find a license plate at all. She raised an eyebrow.

"You have something against people from Minnesota?" She asked, a small grin forming on her face. The car behind them had gone quiet, but it was too late. Someone far ahead of them had begun to pass along the message, honking loud enough to echo down the street.

Percy grunted, putting the car in drive before the car behind them could honk again. "Only if they're bad drivers." He informed her, retaking her hand. Was it odd, how perfectly their hands seemed to fit? Annabeth didn't know what to make of that, but she wasn't going to complain. Out of everything that seemed to go wrong in her past relationships with friends, family, or dating, this felt _right._ She half-hoped he felt the same.

"Coming from the guy that drives like he's being chased by the cops." She snorted, recalling their trip to the mall. Judging by the almost accusing glance, she'd struck a juicy topic. Her smile widened at the idea of getting him a little worked up, even if it was just to pass the time.

"I _was_ being chased by the cops, just not specifically at that moment." He replied, poking her side for emphasis. She suppressed her giggles, because if he found out she was ticklish she might be doomed. Instead, her smile twitched lightly and went on.

"And in a borrowed _Prius,_ no less." She mocked, faking shock. "I mean, who even let you borrow their car? What happened to yours?" Her voice tapered off a little, realizing her mistake. Her joke had accidentally taken a turn towards a much more serious, unspoken topic. One that she understood he didn't want to talk about. Not yet. Whatever criminal (or lack thereof) past he might have, she wasn't sure she _wanted_ to know about, anyways.

A tense silence enveloped the car, so thick that even the birds chirping in the park and cars honking around them couldn't break it it. Percy's mouth was set into a line, and his normally jumpy, ADHD personality began to still. She regretted opening her mouth, because now she'd lost that side of him she'd grown fond of. The shy smiles and witty comments were starting to disappear.

Suddenly, the air around them became breathable again, and his joking smile returned, albeit only a fraction of what it had been. "That was my foster dad's Prius, I'll have you know, and the detectives knew that. It's not _my fault_ they have it out for me." He said, trying to relieve the tension. Annabeth let out a semi-humored laugh in order to keep the tension from returning, but stored the new information away. She didn't know he lived with a foster family. He never really talked about his family.

She'd only told him a little bit about her parents on New Years, though. She guessed that made things even.

"Finally." Percy muttered under his breath, relieved. Annabeth realized she'd been staring again, and the cars ahead of them were, slowly but surely, moving forward. The stop-and-go traffic was over. He shift the car in drive again, letting go of her hand to do so. They began to gain speed, actually moving. The tension wasn't as pronounced, but the topic that caused it lingered, taunting Annabeth.

' _You need to figure it out eventually. Why risk dating a gang member?'_

Still, as he took her hand again and squeezed it in what she understood could be either assurance or an apology, she squeezed back.

…

"Seriously?"

Percy frowned down at her, but still kept his arm wrapped around her as they walked closer towards the restaurant. They'd parked half a block away, and as she'd gotten out of the car she'd felt an overwhelming sense of coldness, giving her goosebumps. Strange, for nice weather, but pregnancy was weird. A lot of cold places made her hot and hot places made her cold. He had taken it in stride, giving her his leather jacket he kept in the back of the car and tucking her into his side.

Now, as they approached a clearly normal, chain food place, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe this whole trip was his way of wrapping an arm around her again. "What?" He asked, oblivious as usual. She rolled her eyes, trying not to make the movement seem too fond.

"I know I said I wouldn't mind something small, but when you said you needed a week to get everything together, I didn't think you'd just be taking me out to eat fast food." She said, matching his pace. Really, this _was_ fine, but she wanted to tease him about it. A week to pick out somewhere to eat… next date, she was in charge.

He let out a small, exaggerated gasp in astonishment, stopping her from taking another step. When he went to stand in front of her, his other hand wrapped around her back until she was pressed against him, her hands against his chest. Her blush exploded onto her face at the close proximity, and his smirk only encouraged her previous theory about wanting to get closer. "Have you _never_ been to a Jupiter Grill before?" He asked.

She shook her head, because _no,_ she didn't get out that often. With friends, or even Luke, they had the Denny's a few blocks from Piper's apartment, or McDonalds not even a block away from Hazel's. Luke had taken her to Serendipity once, and that had been fun, but just the once. She hadn't gone out to eat since Luke had left, until Juniper had offered a few days ago. All her money coming from any job she might have (read: Megaplex) went towards Stanford.

Percy slowly let go of her, still keeping her tucked closer to him. His smirk was apparent in his tone, making his pace more confident. He almost had a bounce in his step, the speed at which he moved. He held the door open for her,guiding her through it. "Then _I_ am about to be responsible for one of the best meals in your entire life. Please, hold your thanks until after the meal." He said, stopping at the Hostess's desk. They only waited a few minutes before they were seated in a booth that felt just a bit too big for only two people.

Looking around, she had to admit it looked nice. The soft lighting and darkened windows, making everything feel warm and fire lit. The memorabilia-covered walls, from the Giants to the Yankees that never ended. Leather booth seats and wooden tables, polished till they shown. Passages of tables and the kitchen open, for the whole restaurant to see as their foot was cooked and grilled. She watched as a sirloin steak was cut into, the sizzling reaching her ears.

But what really made her hungry was the _smell._ If there was an real major downside to pregnancy, it was how messed up her eating habits had become. The baby was _such_ a picky eater, and she hadn't even come out of the womb yet. If her nose did not agree with what it was given, neither would her stomach. Juniper's vegetarian meals weren't _bad,_ but they weren't _good_ either. She was a burger and fries kind of girl.

Right now, baby liked what she smelled. Annabeth's mouth began to water, and her stomach let out an unattractive moan. Worse still, Percy noticed from where he sat across from her, looking at his menu. He hid a chuckle into his shoulder, and when her cheeks began to flush his grin was about to tear his face in half. "I assume you like what you see?" He said, trying to act casual.

Annabeth hid her face behind her menu, avoiding his gaze. Sadly, all the beautiful pictures only made her stomach moan again, hungry for anything she could get. His laugh was a conformation that he'd heard her, and her face turned a darker shade of red. She was seriously starting to debate if this was a good idea, letting him plan the date, when their waitress appeared. As if her afternoon couldn't have been any worse.

"Hi, Welcome to Jupiter Grill! How are you two doing this afternoon?" Said a chirpy, fake, familiar voice. Annabeth's blood froze when she recognized it, and her grip on her menu tightened until her knuckles had turned white.

For once, that voice that normally threw doubt into her mind went in unison with her own thoughts. ' _This can't be her. You left her back in high school!'_

"Can I interest either of you with a drink to start? We serve Coke and Pepsi products, along with our special homemade lemonade! What can I start you out with?" She asked, her voice sickly sweet.

' _Please be a dream. Please, let Percy realize who this is and scare her off. Just… don't let her torment me again.'_ She pleaded internally. All those years in middle school and high school, humiliated and put down at every opportunity. It wasn't fair that she was here now, after thinking Annabeth was rid of her forever. She hunched into her menu, the food on the pages not as appetizing as before.

Sadly, Percy didn't seem to understand that she was tense about. In fact, he seemed _completely_ oblivious to the fact that his #1 fan was currently in front of him, eager to please. Probably even more so, when she sees his face. "Could I get a Coke, please? And Ann-"

"OMG, Percy! It's so good to see you! How have _you_ been?" She asked, her pitch reaching a new octave. Her voice felt like crumbling Styrofoam, leaving Annabeth's teeth gritting and head hurting. She winced when the beginning of a migraine began to form at the crown of her skull. Still, she didn't lower the menu. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could avoid speaking to her for the whole afternoon.

"Oh, uh, hey Drew… It's been a while…" Percy said, and Annabeth rolled her eyes because _now_ he understood what a predicament he'd gotten them into. Annabeth noticed- not long after New Years, in fact -that Drew was his stalker. A self-proclaimed girlfriend that followed him around like a predator stalks prey. At first, _maybe_ Annabeth had wanted to speak to him, but Drew was always hovering around him, sending daggers to whoever he spoke to, or whoever would speak to him. She didn't seem to get the message that he wasn't interested.

"I know, right? I mean, I feel like I don't even see you in the halls at school anymore!" She said, her voice getting high enough she guessed that the tables around them would soon start to take notice. Her stomach churned at the thought of all those eyes in her direction…

"Yeah, um, right. So, anyways, I'll have a Coke, and Ann would like some strawberry lemonade." He said, surprising Annabeth a little. She forgot just how closely he paid attention to detail, such as the drink she ordered when Juniper took them out last week. Even more surprising; Percy hadn't given Drew her name. Maybe… maybe he knew about how Drew might react? Yes, obviously he understood that Drew would try to assert some form of dominance. That must be it.

A sharp silence cut through the cheerful atmosphere around her, as if everyone in the room had decided to whisper instead of yell. A rare occurrence in a family place like this, Annabeth was sure. Drew was gazing at her, sizing her up, and Annabeth was instantly trying to relax, but critiquing her own appearance as well.

Her green t-shirt her cousin had sent over from Boston: it suddenly felt too baggy and unkempt. A worn pair of jean shorts, fringing at the bottom. Were they a bit _too_ short? Her sneakers were faded and old, almost falling off of her feet, really. Was this how long it had been since she'd gone on a date? Had she become a slob in the past few months since Luke had left? Not to mention the complete lack of makeup. Why hadn't Percy _said_ anything? That boy was too polite for his own good. Or maybe he was _trying_ to embarrass her-

' _No_.'

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts of anything Drew related. Drew Tanaka fed on this insecurity, _especially_ in Junior year Fitness. She forced her hands to relax, and her posture to become a bit straighter. Her shoulders brushed the inner fabric of Percy's leather jacket, and it was as if she'd rubbed a scratch-and-sniff sticker. Ocean breeze and cookie dough filled her nostrils, and she was reminded of Selina, one of her best friends during Sophomore year, who shared that same, chocolaty smell.

" _She's all talk, you know. You're beautiful the way that you are. I bet Drew would_ kill _for your smile, or to have hair as pretty as yours."_ She said, pulling a younger Annabeth aside, close to tears in the locker room after being laughed at for her giant framed glasses. Selina had pushed the square plastic higher up her nose, smiling. " _And don't get me started on those gorgeous eyes of yours. She make fun of you because she_ knows _how beautiful they are."_

Annabeth had detested those horrible frames, but she'd worn them proudly that day. It had been so much easier to be reassured when others were doing the reassuring. She wished Selina could be with her, right now.

"Ann? I don't think I ever remember meeting you? Then again, I can't really be sure." Drew said, as if verbally trying to lower Annabeth's menu. She didn't budge, but let the now reinvigorated crowd around her start to cheer across the room. It seemed that someone was having a birthday, and the whole staff was singing along. That is, everyone but Drew. She waited intently to hear Annabeth's voice, or catch a glimpse of her face.

"The lemonade is fine." She said, her voice coming out just the slightest bit hoarse.

It felt like Annabeth could breath again when she walked away, and she set the menu down with a dull _thwack!_ She took a moment to collect herself, and when she finally got the nerve she glanced at Percy. His gaze was both apologetic and proud at the same time, which made her feel confused. Apologetic, she understood.

But _proud?_

… She couldn't deny that she didn't like how she felt, suddenly, under his gaze. When he reached over the table and grabbed her right hand in his left, she enjoyed the feeling that his smile and grip gave. As she tried to pinpoint the emotion it could possibly be, she was surprised, and oddly relieved, to realize it was reassurance. The same reassurance Selina had given to that little Sophomore all those years ago in the locker room.

He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. When a manager walked past, Percy flagged him down and requested that they get another waitress. The manager had been oddly sympathetic, and Annabeth wouldn't have been surprised if this wasn't the first complaint he'd gotten about Drew.

…

"Okay, I admit it." She relented, still cradling her leftover steak in it's takeout box as if it were practice. "That _was_ one of the best meals I've ever had." She said, standing just the slightest bit taller so as to peck Percy on the cheek. He blushed, but his smile was grateful. From her first bite of the boneless wings to the last crumb of molten chocolate cake, he seemed to be waiting for a final verdict. Now, only after they'd exited an hour and a half later, she was relenting.

"You can applaud now." He said, and she snorted, stepping away only so that she could slug his shoulder. Immediately, his arm caught around her waist again and he pulled her closer. She didn't mind, really. His jacket still hung over her shoulders, and her hand was wrapped around his waist as well.

"I'll admit that the food was good… But not as good as that look on Tanaka's face when she saw us." Annabeth said, smirking. Percy began to let out a laugh loud enough to turn heads on the New York streets, but Annabeth was too busy joining him to care. She'd had _fun,_ so everyone else could stop judging her decisions and let it continue, herself included.

"I liked it when you ordered twice as much as me." He confided, still smirking. "And when I saw it, and- what did you say again?"

She smirked as well, shaking her head. He knew _exactly_ what she'd said, but he wanted her to say it. She didn't mind, actually. Really, it kind of… relieved her, the way they both joked about the subject, but considered it at the utmost important thing. "I said I was eating for two." She whispered, and Percy's smirk grew into a smile. Her heart jumped at the transition.

They reached the his car soon after, take out boxes in hand. Percy let go of her for only a moment, carefully placing the Styrofoam in the back seat. Annabeth smiled when he got back out, almost hitting his head against the door frame. When he was out, she waited patiently for him to open the door for her like he always did, but was surprised instead to feel his hand around her waist yet again, pulling her away from the car.

Maybe it was just her hormones acting up again, surrounding her in a haze of memory lapse, but she was pretty sure this was the moment that he take her home. With each step, she switched her field of vision from Percy, to his car, and back again. She settled on him when she couldn't see the car anymore. He had a small grin on his face, and when he saw her confused frown it only seemed to grow. "We aren't heading home?" She asked.

Percy's smile grew even bigger now, and he leaned forward, gently placing a kiss on her forehead. She blushed a little, still not used to the contact that left her skin tingling. He tugged her closer to him, and she melted into his side. "Not yet." He said, stopping at a stoplight, along with a dozen other people. "I thought maybe we could walk through the park for a little bit. We've got-" he checked his watch, squinting at it. "- four hours to kill until sundown, so let's make the most of it."

She was quiet, biting her lip a little. She _loved_ Central Park, and couldn't see any reason why _not_ to go in on such a beautiful day. Percy seemed anxious about it, even quickening their pace to reach the next light faster, and she began to think Jupiter Grill wasn't the _only_ plan he had for the afternoon. Her curiosity was mounting, moving her feet a little faster with Percy. His excited feelings were rubbing off on her.

It was fifteen minutes spent between stop lights and squished beside other pedestrians, but she couldn't find an uneasy emotion that usually went with foot traffic. With his arm around her, and the reassurance that he was staying beside her for the rest of the day by choice, she kept herself relaxed and found herself leaning into Percy's touch until the scenery around them went from grey sidewalks to tree lined asphalt.

She might've ignored Percy for a full thirty minutes as they walked, wandering further down paths and into green filled landscape. The wonderful, magical thing about going into Central Park was just how _big_ it was. It didn't matter that Annabeth might know she'd taken the same path a dozen separate times. It didn't _look_ the same. Seasons changed, new trails were forged, now routes taken. It was a magical, lost kingdom that she could roam in and look up and pretend the buildings were castles.

When she was eight, she'd pretended that the park was her garden, and the buildings her castle walls. The freedom of wide open spaces and security of walls to keep out invaders. She was a princess, living like royalty.

Now, nearly ten years later, she was here again. They passed fountains, joggers, bike messengers, and other people getting lost in their own fantasies, just like Annabeth. She gazed wide eyed as they passed wide open spaces, or let the patchy shade from the trees keep her cool in other places. She didn't notice that Percy had the same enchanted smile, nor did she realize it was directed at her.

When they _did_ stumble across a bench that wasn't occupied, Annabeth was quick to take it for them. Half an hour of walking normally wasn't anything for her, but her feet had recently been getting even bigger, and they would swell quickly if she didn't rest often. As she sat on the cool iron, she sighed in complete content. If paradise were real, this was hers.

Sadly, she didn't think she could take another half hour of walking. Her feet would kill her first, and then paradise would quickly turn to just another painful walk. She rested her head against the wooden beams at her back, smiling. "As much as I would love to keep going for another three hours, I don't think I can walk that far. Let's go back." She suggested, but didn't move. It felt too good to leave just yet. She listened to the birds chirping above them, and the whistling of leaves almost cancelling out the traffic around the park. Almost.

"Five more minutes of walking." Percy said. "And then you won't have to stand on your own feet for two hours." He bartered, looking around at the trees like she was. His arm rested against the back of the bench, and his jacket still sat on her shoulders. She cast him a curious glance, wondering why he might want to stay out with her for another two whole hours, but eventually just shrugged. Why he might want to watch her gawk plants all night was his secret. As long as she was the one gawking them.

"Fine. But if you try carrying me for two hours straight, I should warn you that I just had a pretty big lunch-" Percy snorted, standing up and offering his hand. She took it, and they walked hand in hand until they reached a clearing. Inside it was-

Annabeth stopped in her tracks, openly gawking at something _besides_ the plants. Her jaw dropped, summoning a chuckle from the boy standing beside her. This only confirmed her suspicions: he had wanted them to end up here. He _had_ planned something for them, and no wonder it took a week! Some people had to reserve this experience a month in advance. "You didn't." She said, not believing that he had done this. His pleased, excited smile told her _yes, he had._

A beautiful, wood and iron carriage sat on the path ahead of them, sectioned off by velvet ropes and some sort of ticket booth. It was a bright red, polished and varnished until it gleamed in the sunlight. Even the wheels with their countless spokes were a bright yellow, with a dark contrast of black iron supports and axles. They dwindled in comparison to the horses, however. Shaggy brown coats with white muzzles and 'stockings'. They shook their heads, snorting with impatience.

" _Well, c'mon! We don't have all day!"_ They seemed to say when they regarded her.

Annabeth blames the baby hormones. That's why she sprinted all the way across the clearing with the best date on Earth in tow. Percy was laughing right beside her, keeping the pace she'd set for them. "They aren't going anywhere without us, Annabeth!" He yelled, laughing loudly.

"Shut up!" She yelled back, elbowing his ribs playfully. Her smile might as well have split her down the middle, seeing as how big it was.

Their driver, an old man in a top hat and coat who claimed to have done this same service for hundreds of other couples, was quick to start moving when Percy asked. He had smiled at them warmly, offering his final favor. Gesturing to his ears, Annabeth noticed the flesh colored plastic and wire. "I'll be turning it off, if that's alright with the two of you. Just tap the bench if you need anything." He explained, then started their progression through the park.

The carriage was surprisingly soft, and even more soft was Annabeth's smile. She had thought she'd explored every inch of Central Park, but everything was exciting and new. She really did hope Percy didn't mind that she had her mouth open in wonder instead of comment. Even more so, she hoped he understood that he'd impressed her. No words could describe her joy, especially when they'd pass by a section of the park she couldn't remember.

The constant _clop, clop, clop_ of hooves was an additional treat. Surprisingly, she didn't get a headache from the noise the horses created. It simply added onto things. It made her feel more like a princess, as cliché as she might sound.

When she finally _did_ realize that Percy might want to talk to her, or at least ask if she was having fun (clearly) she gave him her full attention. He didn't seem to want it, though. He was spread across the whole seat, his arms resting against the back of the carriage. His gaze was focused solely on her, though, as if he'd been waiting. Or, maybe he just enjoyed seeing her smile.

"What?" She asked, not letting her smile go above small. She watched as he turned away, as if embarrassed at being caught. His smile was soft, but genuine. She could spot a fake smile, and would gladly say that Percy never gave one to her on normal occasion. He shrugged a little, but didn't offer any words. The shades of green around them complimented his eyes, making them stand out as brighter.

She cocked an eyebrow, because now was a good time to talk. She knew things were… tense. Between the two of them. Maybe not now, as much as it had been a week ago, but her gut told her that things were still unnaturally secretive between the two of them. Sure, he knew most of her secrets (more than anyone else, actually) but his dark, looming skeleton in the closet threatened to appear every hour of every day. It burned whatever bridge she assumed he might try to build.

She wasn't going to push, though she wanted to. She wasn't going to ask what he might be hiding, because it wasn't all that secretive. Percy had ties to criminals. His cousin, Paul, was a Mob Doctor. Grover tried to hide his tattoos, but it was obvious what the ink under his skin meant. Annabeth hadn't _seen_ anything on Percy, but it had been dark. She hadn't been paying much attention.

Percy was tied to them somehow. The question was _how._

Annabeth felt his hand encase her smaller one. She felt his thumb run over her knuckles. Calloused. Rough. Not afraid to get his hands dirty, maybe? She didn't know. Maybe she didn't _want_ to know.

When he drew her gaze again, she could see the worry lines behind his eyes. It startle her a little, seeing the bags under his eyes and hearing the tired laughs he'd give her. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked, holding their hands between them. The trees and grass around them faded. It was just the two of them in a carriage.

She looked at him, _really_ looking at him. His tired, weary smile. The slight muscle that rested on him, along with his chiseled features and rough stubble. His eyes- his most captivating features -were always looking at her. She wondered if he knew she noticed his glances. She wondered even more if he saw hers. He looked so… caring. Open to discuss anything, as long as she asked. She just needed to ask.

"Percy, can I ask you something?" She asked, keeping eye contact with him. The smile that he gave her sent butterflies churning in her stomach, and she tried not to grit her teeth at the uncomfortable feeling.

"What is it?" He asked, and she noticed him sit up a little more and scoot closer. She threw caution to the wind, sitting up as well.

She took a deep breath, looking again into his eyes. She could trust him to answer. She could trust him to tell the truth.

She asked him about his family. About Grover and Andrew. About the police. About who he was. She didn't meet his eyes, cursing her nerves. With each request, she felt his smile shrink until it was a thin line.

He was still for a long time. She didn't meet his gaze. The horses whinnied skittishly.

"I'm sorry." He said, and her heart sank a little. "I can't. Not yet." He said, letting go of her hand. Annabeth felt a wave of disappointment shudder through her, and she kept her gaze down at her feet. The carriage kept moving, though she thinks she left her brain somewhere on the trail.

"When, then?" She asked, not meaning for it to sound accusing, but still coming out like that. She was angry, and he was the cause of it. When she looked up, he was still looking at her, and with his smile gone he looked older. Harsher. He looked as angry as she felt, with a darker shade overtaking his sea green eyes.

As quickly as it was there, it was gone. His anger burnt out and he didn't offer any words, just taking her hand again. The day was still bright, but things felt… Different. Colder. She shivered, wondering if asking Percy had been a good idea. He was quiet beside her.

She didn't have to walk for two hours, just as Percy promised. They sat together and apart while looking upwards, towards her castle. This time, she wasn't alone in her garden. She had a prince with her, and he didn't look like he would be leaving anytime soon.

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 **LHG :)**


	8. Fifteen Weeks

**Hey Guys.**

 **So, its been a while. I've just been busy, really. Nothing too major to report. Starting college soon, so updates might be coming in less frequently... sorry. I hope you all know how much I appreciate the support and love that you all give these stories, and can't wait to hear from you. Really, I'd love it if you gave me feedback. What you like, what you don't, how you think every situation is going to play out, etc.**

 **Been working on a mini-story, but it might be a long ways away. Anyone like Dungeons & Dragons, or any RPG like it? I'd love to hear about it.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I'm Not Rick Riordan.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

 _(Fifteen Weeks)_

"And you're sure you want to do this?" He asked again, worriedly looking at her from the corner of his eye as they sat in front of their destination. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and it did nothing to boost Annabeth's own confidence. She'd been second guessing herself since Sunday, when she'd first decided she needed to do this.

Really, she should've done this two weeks ago, but the rock that had been resting in her stomach had been keeping her bravery in check. She had been avoiding the situation for as long as she could. She even felt uncomfortable being at work before quitting, knowing how close her two tormentors were from her. On more than one occasion, she would glance fearfully at the doors because she thought she might've seen them.

Now, she was sitting a street away from her parents house, trying to gather her courage and stop Percy from backing out.

Okay, that wasn't fair to say. Percy had offered to sluff fifth and sixth period for her, determined that if she was to go, he would make sure that she wasn't alone when she did. It was almost sweet, but every nerve in her body was screaming at him to just _shut up._ She was having trouble trying to convince _herself_ to walk into her own home. Percy needed to calm down. It was stressing her out.

Her hands rested on her abdomen, a more and more frequently comforting motion. She found herself doing that a lot lately, trying to calm down. It was a bit different, considering she was looking at the object of her discomfort. She didn't take her eyes off of the door when she spoke again. "Positive." She said.

He was silent for a moment, and the noise of traffic and city life was leaking through the closed windows. "Then why aren't we going in?" He asked, shifting in his seat. He seemed as uncomfortable as she did, but for different reasons, she knew. Annabeth had been giving Percy a bit of a cold shoulder since Central Park. Dropping her off had not been the same as the night they'd gone on their walk.

Annabeth still didn't move. She didn't take her eyes off of the door, either. She didn't really have an answer for him, but wasn't going to tell him that.

Percy was watching her again. Staring at her, trying to understand what she might be thinking. Or maybe he was just waiting for an answer of some kind from her. He had been quiet since Central Park, but not because he was afraid he'd said something wrong. He thought that hiding information from her was _justified._ It irked her to no end, and any 'normal' conversations they might've held were gone.

Maybe she made a face that worried him, or maybe his impatience was getting the better of him. Either way, it was a full five minutes before he _did_ speak. "We can do this another day, if you aren't ready-"

"I need the clothes, and I need my laptop. I'd like to actually _graduate_ high school, and at least look respectable before I have your spawn." She said, meaning it as an insult but coming out way too fond when she said the word 'spawn.' She grabbed belly, trying to both apologize and block out the baby's ears. She didn't want the baby to hear what they might be arguing about.

"Spawn." He muttered, but not sounding sorry or angry. "I kind of like that, actually." He admitted, grinning to himself. Annabeth's lips _did not_ twitch. She wouldn't let Percy turn this around on her. It wasn't as quiet as long as before. "I could go in and grab everything for you, if you'd like." He said. "Just tell me what you need and I'll pick it up."

Annabeth shook her head, and not _just_ because the idea of Percy seeing her room (as messy as she left it) without her there was appalling. "I can grab my own clothes, Percy. Just… Just give me a minute, okay?" She asked roughly, her tone conveying a different request all together: ' _I'll grab my stuff when I'm ready. Shut up and stop trying to rush me.'_ When he shut his mouth, she again saw his brows scrunch together in anger, but they quickly became impassive again.

She had to prepare herself to walk back in, because she knew, deep down, this was going to be the last time she ever set foot in her childhood home. This could possibly be the last chance she had to pick up whatever items that she wanted to keep, while the rest would have to stay (she didn't want to stay long in Juniper's guest room). She'd have to go through what few possessions she had and distinguish between what was most important to her. She'd sit in her reading spot one last time…

Annabeth opened the door carefully, almost robotically. She didn't flinch when the wind hit her face or react when Percy opened his door as well. He'd already discussed his role with her, to which she'd reluctantly agreed. She waited patiently on the sidewalk, her hand resting on her now more pronounced bump. It had steadily been growing larger, to which Annabeth had gotten clumsier and more forgetful because of it. This time, she would most certainly be blaming the baby.

Percy reached into his trunk and brought out five empty boxes. Five cardboard boxes, to hold all the possessions that she might wish to take. Five boxes, for the memories to go into. She felt like she was dumping her entire soul into them, and with each item she'd put in it it might spill out. Percy held all of them, collapsed into one box, and went to take her hand. Annabeth pulled away, and he took all the boxes in both hands.

No one was in the house. She'd checked schedules, she'd watched to see if any lights might be on, or even if Matthew and Bobby might've stayed home sick (curiously enough, they always got sick together). Even as she closed the door behind them, the silence was unnerving, though she came home to silence each day anyways.

The living room was still scattered with markers and video game controllers while pictures still hung askew on the walls. The kitchen was piled with dirty dishes and the trash nearly overflowing with takeout containers. Just the smell alone of bad Thai food made her want to lose her lunch all over again, which would _suck_ considering she'd been holding down for a full week now.

As she delved deeper into the house, checking her father's study and her parents room in case _they_ might be home, Annabeth glanced at Percy while he stood behind her. He wasn't snooping into anything, but she noticed him pick up a family photo. And by family photo, Annabeth means one of the few with her in the background, or off to the side a little bit. Never smiling, never included. She breathed a little easier when he put the frame back down.

After a thorough investigation, Annabeth came to the conclusion that the house was empty, and would remain that way for at least another two hours. She didn't feel like that would be enough time, but she took a deep breath and rested her hand on her stomach. ' _This is for you.'_

"C'mon." Annabeth said, grabbing the boxes in Percy's hands and leading him up the stairs. She passed each individual room, trying not to feel too nostalgic or lingering in one place for too long. Percy followed wordlessly, and she appreciated that, really. This was a hard moment for her to have to go through, and his words wouldn't be appropriate while she left everything behind because of the mistake _he_ (we, she corrected internally, wincing) made.

She opened her door to her room and nearly cried.

Everything was broken. Clothes were tossed all over the floor, along with anything else of value: books, sketches, notebooks, etc. Everything. She'd once had a small collection of snowglobes (one from New York, Coney Island, and the last from San Fransisco), but all that was left was shattered glass and her broken heart. Her fists clenched at her sides, demanding to hit something. Even if it was Percy, to which she wouldn't find unjustified.

She walked in slowly, avoiding the glass, and picked up one of her prized possessions: an architectural sketch of an office building she'd gotten a good grade on in eighth grade. It was one of the few classes she loved, and the teacher had praised her creative abilities, boosting her confidence higher than a kite. Now, it was torn and soggy, the ink and pencil graphite smudged beyond the point of recognition.

Tears began to fall freely down her face, and she wanted to shut down completely. To forget about everything else and sleep until maybe she didn't wake up. To rest easy, and to leave now. It was obvious, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that her father had done this. Maybe her stepmother had been included in the festivities as well. Either way, Annabeth wanted to leave, and hopefully never have to come back.

She was shaking, and the hands on her belly didn't comfort her as they had been for the past few days. Instead, her silent tears turned to sniffling, and she had to wipe her eyes because _this wasn't fair._ Almost everything in her room, any good memory or childish pleasure she'd kept was gone. Everything important to her was gone.

When his hand grabbed onto hers, she gladly accepted it this time. She clung tightly to the only source of solidity in her otherwise crumbling life, though she imagined he was feeling sorry for himself. Obviously, he'd chosen the wrong girl to knock up. He must've been regretting everything since he met her, and the attitude she'd been giving him. Her free fist crumpled the praise-earning design, and she began cry harder and harder.

Percy wrapped his arms around her, burying her into his chest. She complied entirely, letting her head rest against his collarbone and her tears soaking into his shirt. This was beyond anything her dad had ever done. This was beyond any cruelty he could've done to her. This? This room _destroyed her._ Percy had her smushed against him, head-stomach-thighs, and the feeling of him pressed closer than ever before was both assuring and painful. She'd fallen so far, accepting this comfort that not even Luke had ever given.

So, although it left her to feel more hollow and alone than before, she wiggled out of his grip. She took a big step back, her borrowed sneakers crunching glass underfoot. She folded her arms around her body completely, trying to feel even a fraction of comfort from herself, or the occupant that stayed within her. Oddly enough, she felt even emptier.

But judging by the way Percy began to ignore her, she guessed he was almost at his wits end. As they both began to put clothes into the boxes, and she glanced towards him on occasion, she was not surprised to see his back to her and his closed fist as pale as her sheets.

…

It was all Annabeth's fault.

Percy certainly wasn't being sentimental towards every piece of clothing, or broken knick-knack that he found. He wasn't inspecting every piece of scrap paper, or going through even the most minuscule bits of trash. Annabeth must've wasted at least an hour of thinking where every object came from, and if she could somehow take everything that had survived her father's fury.

Meanwhile, he had been picking up each item of clothing, folding it carefully, and gently placing it into the box. He was methodical, robot, and stiff the entire time, but he got something _done._ Every once in awhile, he'd cough loudly and hold up an article of clothing that looked small, or ripped, or too worn out. Annabeth was actually surprised by his eye for detail. Almost everything Percy held up for inspection, she asked that he put them back into the drawers of her dresser (not that she'd be coming back for them).

They hit a rough snag during undergarments (his face looked sunburnt), but eventually they got into a rhythm where he would keep her on track and she would fret over small things. They separated a few half-torn, but fixable sketches into a 'maybe' pile, and she desperately hoped they could fit them all into a box or two.

Finally, when they were nearly packed and ready, Annabeth heard the telltale noise of the door lock disengaging downstairs. Her blood froze in her veins, and she must've turned as white as Percy's grip when they had first started. She checked her alarm clock, but found it unplugged and uselessly shattered in the far corner of her room. Percy saw this, and held his wrist out to her. She shook her head out of fear. No one was supposed to be home this early. They had two hours at the very _least._

But now every possible scenario played out inside of her head. Every potential problem that had kept her up the night before, and had left her in the car, unmoving. Her father could've gotten home from classes early, deciding to eat the numerous takeout boxes that Annabeth guessed filled the fridge. It could be her stepmother, back from grocery shopping or grabbing her keys (she was always so forgetful).

Whatever the reasoning, Annabeth shifted uncomfortably in fear. Her foot took one inch too far backwards, and Annabeth's foot caught on the 'maybe' pile. Papers shot out from under her and she lost her balance, falling forwards. Percy's reaction was completely on point with what Annabeth needed. He stepped forward, catching her forearms and steadying her onto her feet. The silence following the noise was deafening in itself.

Percy himself shot Annabeth an alarmingly calm gaze, gesturing her to remain quiet and stay silent. They both stood, backs straighter than a sign. They waited, hauntingly slow, for a possible noise that informed them they hadn't been caught.

Silence.

Deadly. Silence.

A creaking in the kitchen. Someone had just put too much weight on the hardwood plank right below the stairs leading upstairs. Annabeth took in a sharp breath as the foot falls began to approach faster up the stairs. Percy gripped her hand and subtly put himself in front of her. She saw something dark in his eyes. Something as deep as the ocean reflecting into his eyes. Normally, Annabeth didn't shrink away from a situation. But at the moment, with her hands around her more visible baby bump, she had _two_ lives on the line. (Three, if she counted Percy.)

The footsteps stopped. Annabeth felt like someone was just outside the door.

One knock. Two. Three. She blinked, because her parents didn't knock.

Regardless of her hearing the knock or not, the knob was turned and the door opened, slowly. Percy still stood in front of her, but now Annabeth side stepped until she was at his side as well. "Annie? Is that you?"

Matthew's head poked into the room, and her eleven year old brother immediately zeroed in on his older sister in a completely demolished bedroom. He threw the door open, a wide grin overtaking his face. "Annie!" He said ecstatically, rushing to her side. He only came up to her chest, and when he threw himself into a hug she gripped him tightly into her embrace. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed him.

"Hey Matt." She said, quieter than she'd meant to be. She tried not to choke up, because if she did she'd start crying and then her brother would ask what was wrong. And if he asked what was wrong, she might tell him everything. "How have you been?"

He pulled back, but now his smile was gone. He looked worried, which wasn't a look that he normally gave anyone. "How have _you_ been? _Where_ have you been?" He asked, then noticed the boxes. He saw the broken glass and torn sketches that covered the floor, as if for the very first time. He looked at Percy for the first time. "Who's he?"

Percy shifted uncomfortably where he stood, and Annabeth admitted that she found it funny that he looked so nervous under an eleven year old's gaze. When he coughed into his fist and bit his lip, Matthew raised an eyebrow. The sight was so comical, Annabeth giggled. _Giggled._ "He's a friend, Matt. I've been staying at his friend's apartment for the last few weeks." She said, kneeling down so the two of them were eye-level.

"But you're back now. You're coming back home?" He asked, child-like innocence lacing his voice. Matthew wasn't looking at Percy anymore, but Percy's gaze was fixed on her little brother. His skin had gone pale, and his fingernails were digging into the palms of his hands. Annabeth looked down, avoiding both of their gazes. How to explain? "You _are_ coming back home, right Annabeth?"

It was unfair, seeing as how this annoying little snot-rag could suddenly be the most adorable little kid in existence. And it was Matthew, the more agreeable of the twins. She wanted to assure him that his big sister was simply cleaning up the mess she'd left her room in. That she'd been at a friend's house, laughing and smiling the days away. She wanted to let him keep that innocence she'd trapped in a bubble. The bubble she hasn't let her father pop.

She'd been so careful, keeping the boys in the dark. If she winced, she used the word _period_ and they made her shut her mouth. If they found a bruise, Annabeth explained her clumsy 'work experiences' and made them a snack. Should she flinch under her father's hard gaze, she would tell her brothers her grades had gone down in a certain class, and he was simply disappointed. They were heavy sleepers, and Helen or her father removed them from the house before they went after Annabeth. It was a mutual rule between the abusers and the abused.

So how to explain… This?

Annabeth looked at the three and a half full boxes. Her last treasures, her last belongings. The possessions that had escaped destruction. How easy would it be, to simply put it all back? To say " _Yes, I'm coming back home?"_ To keep her little brothers, a small light in her life, from flickering out?

Too hard, it seemed.

Annabeth felt every fist connect with her flesh. She imagined every bruise as if it were still there. There were very few places on her body that hadn't been black or blue at one point in her life. She felt the burning sensation of pulled hair, the hot tears escaping after each slap. She imagined the starving nights and painful mornings afterwards. She imagined the marks, the nail scrapes, the slander, the vulgar insults, and _no._

She looked to her window. She looked towards the cushions and the books that had been torn there. She closed her eyes, because if she looked too hard she might see her cowardice returning. She had to make a stand, and do what was right for herself. Matthew and Bobby would be more than okay. They were her father's pride and joy. This was _their_ home, not hers.

"Where's Bobby?" Annabeth asked, trying to buy herself some time. Percy stood off to the side, head down. He hadn't said a word since Matthew had come in. He hadn't said a word since she'd stepped away, in fact. But he was obviously watching her brother, cautiously observing.

"He's at football practice with his friends. Are you staying or not?" He asked, sounding more distressed than before. Annabeth bit her bottom lip, feeling more nauseous by the second as she kept eye contact with her younger brother. His eyes search hers, and when they found her answer they began to glisten with tears. "You aren't, are you?" He said. Annabeth grabbed onto his forearms, dragging him into a hug. She held him close to her, his head tucked under her chin.

"I can't stay here anymore, Matt. I _can't."_ Annabeth said, trying desperately to make him understand. She'd kept everything hidden from her younger brothers. They hadn't so much as caught a glimpse of her face when it sported a bruise. Matthew clung tightly to her, and a deep sense of sorrow began to seed its way into her heart.

"It's because of mom and dad, isn't it?" He whispered. Percy grabbed onto the edge of Annabeth's nightstand, his knuckles white. It looked like he might try and tear the wood in half. Annabeth pretended she didn't notice the way his eyes darkened past suppressed heat. He looked like smoke, and if he got any more oxygen he'd burst into flames. "It's because they yell at you all the time?"

Annabeth kept her bottom lip hostage, afraid of what truth might come out if she let it go. She simply held him tighter, nodding her head. She supposed that although he couldn't see her, he understood. Her brothers always understood what she meant. If Annabeth could've bottled up any moment, it would've been this one. The moment her brother understood that she needed to leave as soon as possible.

When Matt pulled away, they were both sniffling and wiping their eyes in an attempt to quell the tears. Annabeth didn't know why Matthew hid them, but she knew why _she_ did. She'd cried too often in this room. She'd been crying too much for a seventeen year old. And, although she didn't know why, she appreciated that he held back his tears. If he'd started crying, Annabeth would've started unpacking as soon as possible.

"H-how much are you taking?" Matt asked, looking around the room. Annabeth couldn't give an answer, but after a long look from Matthew he seemed to piece it together. Whatever wasn't destroyed, and could be carried, was leaving. His eyes settled on the boxes and the disorganized 'maybe' pile. Without so much as a word from Annabeth, Matt began to pack her things away with them.

Percy excused himself from the room, saying something about toiletries, and Annabeth saw through the excuse to leave. Her eyes narrowed, though, when she caught his gaze and he shied away from her prying eyes. She imagined that he wasn't just getting 'toiletries' for her.

Her and her brother worked in silence for a long while, without so much as a word in between. No passing glances when Annabeth looked his way, and no smile she'd grown accustomed to seeing. Instead, long after Percy took her things back to his car and vacuumed her room (she would never leave such a mess), Matthew never, not once, met her eye.

…

The drive back to Juniper's was harder than Annabeth had imagined it would be. She fought back tears for the first twenty minutes of the drive, furiously sniffling and wiping at her eyes. Her legs were tucked up onto the seat, and she'd removed her shoes to feel a little less suffocated. She pressed her cheek into the window, feel the coolness of the glass leech into her skin.

Percy had offered her tissues from the glovebox, to which she hadn't even muttered a thank you. Instead, she clutched it to her chest with one hand and wrapped her free arm around her stomach until the tears subsided and the numbness took hold of her.

She'd sat in her corner for the last time, watching as Percy had vacuumed. No eyes meeting, no words exchanged, but the loudest sucking noises she'd ever heard in existence preventing her from thinking straight. She'd watched as Matthew had stepped out of the room, eyes narrowed at Percy as he'd left. She'd felt her heart being tugged away from her, and it left a physical pain in her chest.

She fixed her gaze on the passing cars. They weren't exactly going _fast,_ but even this wasn't a crawl when they approached the bridge. Everything felt like it was moving through syrup, and the word outside lost its shades of color. The world was becoming grey around her, and sounds began to fade away.

They were on the bridge, in the far right lane. If she stood up on her knees and angled her head a little, she could see the water below. It was probably nice today. The water would be warm… It looked tempting. And they were going slow enough that she could get out. She'd just lean against the railing for a minute… and if she fell, the water would catch her.

Percy's hand was like a shot of Espresso. A bungee cord that was tugging onto the small of her back, and she'd just hit the end of the line. She snapped back into reality, and the world regained its color. "Hey, talk to me. Are you okay?" He said, immediately taking his hand off of hers. There was something different when _he_ moved away first, and it set Annabeth on edge a little.

"I'm fine." She muttered, clearing her throat directly afterwards. She hadn't realized how parched her throat had gotten, nor how far they had moved. They were off the bridge, moving West. A mixture of buildings of all colors surrounded the car, though traffic had decreased significantly. The bright blues of the sky joined in with the tan bricks around them, accenting the colored buildings better.

"Are you sure?" Percy asked, entirely unconvinced. She could hear the concern presenting itself in his voice, and she wasn't sure why the emotions she felt at the statement were so _bipolar._ Annabeth hated him right now. It had only been three days, but it was like he'd rejected her. Sure, she understood he had a troubled past (obviously, hers was equal in weight), but that didn't excuse the flat out denial she'd received.

Then, on the complete opposite end of the spectrum, Annabeth felt overcome with emotion that he actually _cared._ He knew what she was and what a waste she was and he _cared_ about her. She wanted to redo the embrace in the bedroom, but not push away. Let him comfort her. Maybe her emotions would've sorted themselves out.

' _Or maybe it was all because he wanted 'Jackson' at the end of your baby's name.'_

Annabeth didn't like that thought. She pushed it aside, though she saw flaws in that evil logic. She was more afraid she might begin to _believe_ it when she thought about it too much.

"I'll be fine." She said, retracting her previous statement and shooting Percy a sideways glance. He was alternating his gaze between her and the road, though it concerned her that he divided that time equally. Three seconds on her, three seconds on the road. _A lot_ could happen in three seconds. "What about you?"

Percy frowned. "What about me?"

Annabeth hadn't meant so say that. She hadn't meant to further along the conversation. She blushed a little under his softer, more confused (and cute) gaze. "Nevermind. Forget I said anything." She muttered.

They went three full blocks without speaking. Annabeth nearly shoved her head in between the window and her own armpit to avoid giving away her embarrassment. The silence was tense and awkward (more so than before) and Annabeth realized she'd been the cause of most of those silences these past few days.

"You never told me you had brothers."

Annabeth didn't move. She didn't respond. She didn't breath, blink, think, and she certainly didn't _speak._ She just sat, stiffer than a board, while Percy drove. His question, met with silence, was haunting. At least, she imagined to him it was. After thirty seconds or so he spoke again. "I mean, I knew about your parents, but not… What're their names?"

Annabeth's nails were probably scratching into the upholstery of his really nice car. Her first breath was shaky, because she knew that even without saying their names, she'd be overtaken with emotion. She tried to force the names out quickly, hoping that her voice wouldn't crack. "Bobby and Matthew. Twins." She said, knowing he would understand. If Percy had any superpower, it would be _understanding._

She thinks she might've seen him nod his head through the unclear reflection in the window, but she couldn't be sure. When he spoke again, they were nearing the street that Juniper's flower shop sat on. She could smell the pollen (and thanked her lucky stars she didn't have allergies). "Tell me a little about them."

Annabeth wanted to be selfish. She wanted to horde this information like a lioness would over a fresh kill. She felt, in this one situation, she had an upper hand. She liked that.

But the pressure in her chest was back. It pressed on everything. Her already-cramped bladder, her pounding head, her thundering _heart-_ she needed it off of her chest. She needed to let it all free, and Percy was a tried and true candidate when it came to a listening ear. She didn't like others knowing about her, which was why when her friends moved, she didn't move from them.

But Percy Jackson had proved, time and time again, that he was the exception.

"Bobby is more sporty, I guess you could say…"

She told him everything about them. About how they were her reason for staying, some days. How she helped them with homework and they didn't know about her abuse. Percy had questioned that, but Annabeth had made it very clear: " _They had no idea what was really going on."_

Annabeth had made sure of it.

When she was done, she didn't feel as resentful. She didn't find herself in the wrong, or even feel regretful of giving Percy even more information about her life before meeting him. He was exactly as he'd been on New Years: stone still. Quiet. Attentive. His eye contact actually made Annabeth feel more confident as she spoke, going as far as to tell Percy how they'd make her sit through a play-by-play of whatever movie her stepmother had taken them to.

They'd reached the flower shop half an hour ago, but Annabeth didn't get up and leave. She enjoyed this. She enjoyed the moments that she got to ramble, because she had nobody to do that to. Percy's eyes didn't glaze over once, and when she was done he asked almost no questions.

Finally, when Annabeth decided they needed to go inside, Percy carried every box and let Annabeth lie down when she felt dizzy (as far as he knew). And when Percy explained he needed to get home, Annabeth wasn't hesitant to place a small kiss onto his cheek.

She hid the letter Matthew had snuck into her pocket under her mattress.

…

If Annabeth had tried, she could've graduated High School _wayyyy_ earlier. She'd finished most of her general electives by Junior year, but she'd opted to continue along with her Senior year anyways. She could gain so much more experience in elective classes and take a few minor concurrent enrollment classes (Stanford compatible, oddly enough) before she took her last steps out of the school. Besides, she could gather more money together that way.

By second semester, she'd switched all of her fourth term classes with online classes. She'd expected to use the family computer each night after her family went to bed, but Percy's generous donation of a laptop made everything easier. She _had_ been using Juniper's HP Desktop, but couldn't feel comfortable until she could work alone.

Thus, the laptop.

Now, five days since retrieving her stuff, she sat on her bed with the laptop resting on her ever expanding bump. She was finishing Accounting online, and it was _much_ less nausea-inducing when the room was void of wrestlers straight out of practice. Not to mention she was taking the State Final _weeks_ in advance. She had four more classes, then she'd be done with High School.

When she'd answered the last question, and hit _Submit,_ she felt a soft sigh of contentment echo in her small guest room. It wasn't as if the school pressure had been overbearing, but it was nice to accomplish something. It was nice, accomplishing something that would actually benefit her life, later on. She was debating between either taking a long nap or satisfying a craving (Oreos and Guacamole) when someone knocked on her door.

Grover would be at work. Juniper would be occupied downstairs in the flower shop. That left Percy. A cold feeling settled on her lower back, grazing her spine. The cool, unopened letter…

"Come in." She said, closing her laptop and setting it on her nightstand. When Percy opened the door, sticking only his head in, Annabeth frowned. His smile was both lopsided and quirky, and for some odd reason that made her stomach flutter (Baby hormones). She had a strange urge to slam him against the wall and forcibly… She was caught between kiss and punch. Mostly likely, punch.

"Hey Beth." He said, stepping further into the room. That _stupid_ nickname was sealing his fate, and it did _not_ involve any kissing. He held his hands behind his back as he spoke. "Watcha doing?"

Annabeth found his tone… happy. Her confusion began to build further. She patted her laptop, then made a quick decision (more to get back at him than avoid him). She quickly turned her bedside lamp off and turned away from him. "I _was_ taking a test. Now, all I plan on taking is a nap." She said, even yawning for effect. When she heard an echoing yawn from Percy's direction, she let her lip quirk up a bit.

"I usually skip the test taking part altogether." He admitted. "I go straight to the nap part." His voice was steadily getting closer, and for some odd reason her confusion only grew bigger. So did her quirking lips.

She quickly snapped back into reality. Her grin disappeared. "What's the point of napping if you haven't done anything tiring to begin with?" She challenged angrily, ignoring the fact she could feel him sitting on the corner of her mattress. She was supposed to be angry with him.

"Practice, for when I do something that makes me want to take a nap. Besides-" he started to lie down, a bit unevenly with Annabeth. His head was to her stomach, and when Annabeth looked towards her stomach she could see him looking up at her. He was wearing the _stupidest_ smile. "-life is tiring. _You_ might not remember the stupidness of teachers, but I _live it."_ He emphasized dramatically. Annabeth snorted in response, pushing a sweater-sleeved covered hand into his face.

Percy fell off the bed in a _huff,_ immediately getting back to where he was before. Only this time, he hooked an arm around her waist. "Not nice. Be nice to me, or you don't get what I got for you."

Annabeth was unimpressed. Especially when this boy was suddenly twice as energetic as usual, and when he started asking for sympathy (the lopsided grin, however, she could get used to). She unhooked his hand and hip-checked him off of the mattress. "Keeping things from me is never a good idea. What's in your hand?" She asked, not putting much thought into that statement but to hurt. She was in a good mood before Percy came in, and those were rare enough for her as it was. But _Percy-_ he seemed stuck between serious and fun-loving, the later hardly showing itself.

She tried to ignore the tingling feeling of his arm around her waist- just below her bump. Something about it felt different. He felt more connected to her, suddenly. She was able to look down and see a significant hump peaking through her sweater, and it _was_ concerning, but not right now. Not in the ten-by-ten guest room. When he got back onto the bed, though, he sat across from her, back against the wall and her feet resting beside him.

Annabeth really _did_ want to take a nap. In fact, she was now certain that Percy had five minutes of her time before she kicked him out and locked the door. He seemed unaware of the change in pace, leisurely grinning and keeping his left hand hidden from her. Annabeth quirked an eyebrow, and tried in vain to hide her building glare. She took a quick moment to compose herself, even sitting up against the bedframe. The metal and mattress squeaked in protest. "Alright, what did you get me that can't wait till after a nap?"

Percy's smile checked itself as well. No more than a small smirk and lazy posture. Annabeth did _not_ find that endearing. At least, that's what she repeated to herself while he held out his empty hand to her. "Close your eyes. Give me your hand." He said. She raised an eyebrow in response.

"Would it kill you to say 'please'?" She asked, taunting him. She enjoyed taunting him, though it didn't happen often. Now, however, he was in a perfect position for her to make fun of him. That is, until he pouted. She was reminded of the experience in the Precinct, and how she'd thought his whining had been adora- endearing. His pouting was endearing.

"Would you _please_ close your eyes and hold out your hand?" He rephrased, and Annabeth took pity on him. She held out her hand, making a big show of closing her eyes as she did. She could feel his smile burning through her, and she held her tongue when she wanted to make a scathing comment about it. Percy was happy right now, when he was usually either ticked off or annoyed by her attitude (at least, that's what he'd called it). He was planning something.

Percy placed something in her hand, and she would've been lying if she said that his fingers ghosting against her palm _didn't_ send shivers down her spine. He'd done the same thing weeks ago- inspiring the same reaction. The difference now was the knowledge and experiences she'd shared with him. The ultrasound, the mall, the police station, their walk… Their date. ' _You're angry, Annabeth. Focus!'_

It was paper. Adding that to the list of similarities between two separate moments, she quickly pulled away from his touch. She didn't enjoy the butterflies in her stomach currently, or the feeling of not knowing what was going on. Annabeth kept her eyes closed for longer than she needed to, wondering what important information warranted this kind of excitement from Percy. What warranted this kind of treatment.

"You can open your eyes, you know." Percy said in that carefree tone. Annabeth's confusion was only growing as she opened her eyes to see his eager face. To see his bright smile and brighter eyes…

Annabeth felt her head spinning. She was angry at him. She was going to be angry at him for as long as she wanted to be. And she wanted it to be long enough until he learned… until he understood that he couldn't be justified in keeping secrets from _her._ That wasn't okay. So she kept her expression passive, and she ducked away from his gaze while opening the slip of paper he'd given her.

A number. Ten digits.

Annabeth wasn't quite sure what she'd been expecting, but this… She was truly off-put. She blinked a few times, checking and rechecking Percy's messy chicken scratch. Each number seemed to have been written at least three times, making the text seem bolded. Ink already appeared on her thumb when she smoothed out his 'gift'. It was a New York area code, but otherwise appeared to be completely normal.

Annabeth had to meet Percy's eyes, just to be sure this wasn't some elaborate prank of some sort. She gave him her most inquisitive look, but he didn't seem deterred. He met her gaze with that same smirk, but eyes wider than before. If anything, he seemed more excited about whatever he had given her than she did.

Silence passed by slowly. Annabeth switched her gaze between the phone number and Percy half a dozen times before he broke the silence. "Are you not going to ask who's number it is?" He said teasingly. Annabeth felt something fiery burning up in her stomach, but forced it back. Immediately, she began to mentally check off who it could be.

Perhaps his cousin, Andrew? Unlikely, but not impossible. Annabeth failed to see how that could be a gift. Mr. Brunner, the only teacher that even remotely cared? The only class they'd shared together? Annabeth wouldn't be as uncomfortable. She liked the old man.

For just a moment… One single, solitary moment… Annabeth pretended to hear her mother on the other end of a phone. The idea sent a mixed reaction, ultimately resulting in Annabeth taking in a sharp breath. She had to look into his eyes, wondering what he could give away unpurposefully. Annabeth was disappointed to see nothing but his excitement.

It couldn't be her mother, though. Her mother didn't _have_ a phone number. She didn't have an address, a family, a picture… If Annabeth didn't latch onto the memories of late night birthday calls that ended when she turned fourteen, she didn't even have a voice. Her mother might as well have been a figment of her imagination, nothing more. No, Percy couldn't have found her mother.

Then who?

Annabeth, although both impatient with him and sharing a childlike excitement with Percy, did not ask. Instead, she pulled pulled out her phone and started to create a new contact. She quickly composed a text, hitting _send_ and waiting for the final verdict. Percy sat smugly at the end of her bed, hands behind his head and eyes closed in what appeared to be bliss. She guessed he was feeling really good about himself right about now, and she understood that he thought she would be happy with whoever she was texting.

She saw the _Read Message_ appear under her text, followed swiftly by the typing icon in the bottom left of the screen. Whoever it was wasn't going to make her wait. She still held her breath in anticipation.

Three words sent and her heart stopped.

 _Matthew and Bobby!_

Annabeth felt herself gasping for air and yet breathing in something fresh all at the same time. She felt dizzy and alert all at once. Her heart might've skipped a beat not even a millisecond before, but now it could probably power a car with the amount of pure energy she was creating.

Her eyes were probably wider than plates when she read the message. In fact, she was starting to hyperventilate a little bit. She had to put her phone down onto her laptop, trying to get a grip on the anxiety that was currently overtaking her. Her arms were starting to fly outwards, as if she were gesturing to some invisible object in front of her. She felt tears starting to prick at the corners of her eyes.

Percy, to his credit, was immediately there to try and help her. He grabbed both of her wrists tightly, keeping them locked in front of her as she struggled against him. "Breathe, okay? Just focus on breathing." He said, much more calmly than he had been a moment before. He trapped both of her wrists in one of his hands, while the other came up and started wiping tears off of her face.

He'd contacted her brothers. Worse, he'd given them a phone, and a way to contact _her._ He would've physically had to have gone to her house, or to their school, or done _something to meet with them_ and- and and and-

What would happen if her parents found it? What if the only contact they found was for 'Annabeth'? What if they tracked her down, and forced her back home? She wasn't eighteen yet. Legally, they were her parents. They were her _guardians-_ they could have her sent to jail in a couple of months. All if Bobby and Matthew received a call at the dinner table, or got caught fighting over ' _who gets to text her today'._

What if Bobby and Matthew give them her new address? Or demand to know who gave them the phone? What if they figure out about Percy? They'd assume the worse, of course. They'd assume drugs, or gangs, or pregnancy, or or or-

The sad situation she found herself in? She didn't know if she was involved with one or _two_ of those scenarios.

"Calm down. Just keep breathing slowly, okay? I can call Juniper, or Andrew, or… Someone who can help, okay? We'll figure out what's wrong." He said soothingly.

Annabeth wanted to punch him. Every word added to the pressure that had slowly been building in her chest over the past few weeks. She didn't _want_ him here. She didn't _want_ his help. She asked for it in an extreme moment of weakness, but she didn't want it anymore. She was Annabeth Chase. She had an unopened letter from Stanford below her mattress. It had the only acceptance she'd ever need from anyone.

"Get out!" She started yelling, sitting up fast enough that Percy fell off of the bed. He scrambled back when she started yelling it louder, and began to get up and off of the bed. "Get out of my room!" She screamed.

Percy didn't leave, but he stood. He was still taller than her, and she could see that he was trying to hold back… Something. His eyes were dark when he looked her in the eye, but her anger was driving her. She didn't back down, instead standing just a foot away from him.

He raised his arms in what she assumed to be exasperation. When he started talking, his voice was both exhausted and furious, his voice _dripping_ with malice. "I- I just don't get it. I don't get _you."_ He said, then started rubbing between his eyes. "You've been going off on me since the Park. You obviously love your brothers, and when you had to leave I figured you'd want a way to talk to them, and now _what?_ Do you hate them now? Do you just hate that _I'm_ the one that got them the phone? Just- just talk to me!" He yelled.

Annabeth knew that Juniper could probably hear them from her flower shop. She knew that anyone in the adjacent apartments with ears could hear this argument, but she couldn't care less. All her rage and frustration towards this _stupid_ boy was going to kill her if she didn't get it out of her system. "They're _eleven, Percy!_ They argue over _everything_ they share! They can't even keep their mouth's shut about a present they get for Christmas! What're the odds that my parents find their phone?"

"What happens when they see that you _got_ them a phone, huh? My parents know I won't have that kind of money, and then they'll ask who gave it to them, or where I am, or-"

Percy cut her off. "I told them not to tell anyone where they got it from-"

"That's not the point!" Annabeth screeched. "What if they start _hitting them,_ Percy?! What if my parents think that they can't trust them? What if they have to worry about getting hit every night, or getting yelled at, or hiding the bruises?!" _What if they end up like me?_

Percy's clenched fists began to tremble. He aggressively shoved his right hand into his pocket and ran the left one through his hair. His teeth were bared as she continued screaming, giving him every last feeling of pain that he deserved from her. Her brothers needed to be _protected._ She'd let them go because she knew they'd be safe if she never spoke to them again. They needed to be safe.

 _She_ needed them to be safe.

When she had screamed her throat sore, and her body trembled just standing in front of him, she put her arms around herself and began stepping backwards. Slowly, so as not to fall over, she reached the edge of her bed. She sat, still trembling, trying to figure out if the anger she felt was gone or replaced by some far, far worse. She started to sniffle, but didn't let a tear fall. "Get out." She pleaded.

Percy closed the door behind him with a soft _click._ When he'd left she fell back onto her bed, exhausted. She went to put her hands on her stomach, but couldn't do it. Her hands wouldn't rest on her baby bump, refusing to give her support. She didn't deserve it. Tears began to run down her face as she tried to muffle her sobs into her pillow.

Long after she'd calmed down and fallen into a guilty sleep, Percy Jackson stepped away from her door, moving to leave the apartment.

* * *

 **Read, Review, Follow, and Favorite!**

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 **-LHG :)**


	9. Seventeen Weeks

**Hey Guys. I got a laptop, and I've been putting major amounts of focus into this story recently. Hope you enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I am not Rick.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

 _(Seventeen Weeks)_

Annabeth could describe the outside of the letter in precise details. She could describe the light smell of rubber that probably came from Bobby's football being pressed against it (he must've kept it in their room). She could feel the wrinkled left corner, from the haphazard movements she'd made when she'd shoved it under her mattress. She could see the school insignia, and read the return address. She could see _her name_ printed formally on the front.

She reached for the seal, taking her left pointer finger and putting it just under the edge of the letter's opening. She could feel the slight bend in the paper, could _hear_ the most minuscule tear as she-

Annabeth withdrew her hand. She let the letter drop to the floor for what must've been the dozenth time. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and went to put the letter back under her mattress. She couldn't do it. She didn't know why she couldn't do it, but she couldn't. Everytime she went to break the seal, her head would force her to drop it. She'd put the letter back under her mattress and try again the next day.

From the moment Matthew had given her the letter, Annabeth had been feeling sick to her stomach. Thankfully she wasn't losing her lunch, as she would've months ago, but it just… Hurt. She felt hollow, or unsatisfied. Something about it… Something was missing. Something strong enough that she couldn't just push it to the side. At first she'd considered the possibility that she might have nerves, but she dismissed it a week later.

Those feelings might not have changed, but her body was a different story entirely. She'd been experiencing some… Dental weirdness. She'd been flossing and brushing regularly, but recently she'd been drawing blood with each stroke. After a few hours probing into the Internet, she found out that it was more than normal. Sadly, so was her stomach size. She couldn't blame Juniper's cooking for her current state, but Percy was receiving most of the guilt anyways.

She'd been less than communicative with him as of late. After a few days of trying to spark a conversation, he'd given up. He offered pointless chit chat that eventually devolved into silence. The only time he did anything was when he would try to make her comfortable. When she'd started experiencing backaches, _he_ gave her some home remedies. When her nose felt congested, he bought a dehumidifier and nasal strips.

It was annoying, how he still seemed to care. He almost made her feel guilty. Almost.

At those thoughts Annabeth laid back, but felt the plush fabric of that _really nice_ pillow Percy had bought for her. She wanted to hate Percy. She had _wanted_ that smile off of his face. She had _wanted_ him gone.

So why did her appetite (a real force to be reckoned with lately) leave her when she thought about never seeing that smile ever again? Why did her heart fly into her throat when he wouldn't show up to dinner?

Even worse, they were going to her second ultrasound next week. They were going to her super-secret medical examination with only Percy and his cousin and absolutely no way was he going to let her out of it. He'd been very serious when he said he would take care of her and the baby, and she had felt a deep pain when she knew he meant it. To be completely honest, she wouldn't miss an ultrasound just because of an argument. It wasn't just her health that needed to be considered.

Annabeth hated these conflicting feelings that were running through her like river rapids. She would constantly get headaches and migraines that shredded her away and made her wish she were back on that bridge. Oh, how she wished she could go back to that bridge… She just wanted to swim for a little. If she could put her head under the water for a minute and blot out all the unnecessary background noise that had overtaken her life. She wanted things to be clear again. She wanted her _life_ back.

Annabeth didn't want to take a nap today. She'd been sleeping way too much, without anything to do besides wait for when she was tired again. She'd tried watching movies, but she grew bored of them as well. What she wanted- _needed,_ really -was to go on a walk.

It was the first week of May. It was bright and clear and _Spring._ The flowers in Juniper's shop had all even seemed, in the moment, more bright and vibrant than anything she'd seen before. She ached to go out in the sun, if only for a few hours. But she didn't want to get caught.

Annabeth had been more than fearful that someone might see. That someone would see her and take a photo, and the next thing she'd notice would be her phone blowing up from Facebook or Instagram. She'd woken up in a cold sweat on more than one occasion, the images and accusations that 'That stupid blonde bimbo' got herself knocked up.

It hurt worse, knowing that they were at least half-right. She certainly wouldn't have seen this in her future.

But Annabeth wasn't in Manhattan. Annabeth was far from her school, far from her old home. She was, in fact, over a bridge that most students didn't normally cross. In a neighborhood that wasn't normally busy. She was far from her old life in high school, where her bullies would be stuck in. It was mid May, but not summer vacation quite yet. They, Percy included, would be sitting in class, preparing themselves for Graduation.

Annabeth was more disappointed than she would let on to anyone about graduation. She'd attended very few ceremonies herself, and she'd been quite small. Her father had received his doctorate well after she had been born, and she'd sat beside her pregnant stepmother while her father was awarded. She didn't remember much, but she remembered her father's smile. It had been larger than she'd ever seen it, at least until his twin sons had been born.

She _had_ gone to Thalia's graduation, though. She had watched in silent awe and admiration as her punk-rock best friend had walked up to the representative from the Board of Education and shaken his hand. Annabeth had been enthralled with the ceremony, and hung on each word from the graduating Seniors. Goode was large enough that they rented out a small college campus's gymnasium for the event, and really… It had been perfect. It hadn't even been _her_ receiving her diploma.

Annabeth looked down towards her protruding stomach and frowned. It wasn't so much an end goal, but graduation was certainly a milestone. _She_ wanted the experience. The honor cords, the cap and gown, the tassel, the speeches. She could've _given_ a speech. She could've probably made valedictorian-

Annabeth clenched her fists into the fabric of her bed while she bit onto her lower lip. _Hard._ This baby was _not_ the problem. This baby was _not_ the reason she was feeling mopey. Annabeth had wanted graduation, yes. She wanted to sit shoulder to shoulder with her peers and receive a diploma like all the other students. She'd _wanted_ that. But now, with everything that was happening, it was _her_ fault she wasn't walking. Pregnant students could do it. There were no rules against walking… For two, she guessed. She was a simply being a coward.

She didn't like the process her thoughts took sometimes, but she couldn't deny was that it was her own fault. She'd lost the opportunity, and she would live with that knowledge. She could, however, distribute the blame. Percy was the chosen candidate for her regret.

' _It'll always be his fault.'_ Her mind reasoned. ' _He gets to go to graduation. He gets to grab his diploma. What is_ he _sacrificing for your baby?'_

This was what brought her back to the walk. She couldn't be left in her room, alone, for too long without hearing her own whispered doubts. An empty room seemed to be an invitation for her personal demons to come out of the deepest, darkest parts of her mind. It wasn't just the impatience and excessive energy she needed gone, she needed to be able to _think_ clearly. To step outside of her 'safety net' and be someone else for a while.

' _Percy still goes to school. He steps outside_ all the time. _You have just as much right as he does. This isn't a prison.'_ Her mind echoed. She couldn't disagree.

Quickly, before the war of thoughts scared her back into a hole, Annabeth reached into the small bedside dresser Juniper had provided for her. The clothing Percy had bought for her were all in there, stored away for her personal use. She took it as encouragement. After all, why would Percy buy her a sundress designed for pregnancy, and expect her to still stay inside?

It was a weak excuse, even to her own thoughts, but she clung to it. She was doing the right thing.

Annabeth quickly placed the green garment over her head, slipping the spaghetti straps up her arms and onto her shoulders. She felt just the slightest bit snug, but determined that she wouldn't change. The dress seemed more suited for an evenly displaced baby, whereas Annabeth's stomach was stubbornly sticking straight outwards. She chose a white, short sleeved top to cover her shoulders, then quickly (with an embarrassing amount of struggling) put on some ballet flats.

As she opened the door to her room, Annabeth had a quick moment of doubt flash into her mind. It wasn't so much prominent or specific as it was blunt. Annabeth simply wanted to _exist_ outside for a few hours, not be noticed. As she opened the door to the apartment, Annabeth snatched one of Juniper's wide brimmed hats and a pair of brown sunglasses. Satisfied, she took her short descent towards momentary freedom.

…

There was this really, _really_ obscure park four blocks from Juniper and Grover's that she hadn't known existed.

Upon first leaving, Annabeth had determined to risk being seen by Juniper through the glass windows of the shop and take a left as opposed to the semi-explored buildings and streets to the right. She'd move further outwards, away from the Hudson and Manhattan beyond, until her feet became sore and her legs shook slightly. It wasn't so much that she didn't want to stop, but she was worried about how quickly she grew tired. She used to be able to go twenty blocks without so much as a falter in her stride.

She could not, however, disagree with her surroundings. The small apartment buildings that surrounded this secluded park were box shaped and ugly, yes, but she compared it to a treasure chest. The quiet, muffled shrieks of laughter we're golden compared to the traffic outside of this protective ring. Everything felt like it was concealed in its own bubble, untouched by the regular hustle of New York. It was obviously private, and the fact that it was surrounded by apartments probably meant it was _for_ the occupants, but that didn't stop Annabeth. She found a green, wooden bench and took a seat.

The sun had climbed higher and higher the longer she sat. There were, of course, parents present. Mothers in sundresses chatted idly, gossiping or sharing smiles with one another. A few women appeared no more than a few days until they themselves had kids, and Annabeth couldn't stop staring at this one woman. She must've been carrying well over four, inside and out, but she look positively content. Annabeth wondered, quite urgently, if she looked as… Prominent. Like a swollen grape.

She wondered if she'd look as content, with only this one. Her hand, tentatively at first, rested the baby bump. It didn't bite or burn, but something much more _raw_ seemed to gnaw on her insides. She quickly removed her hand.

The kids were another story altogether. From her lonely bench, Annabeth saw an entire pallet of wardrobe choices: rainbow socks and polka dot shirts, fluorescent scrunchies and light-up sneakers. At least a dozen different shades of pinks, blues, yellows, oranges and whatever other colors the park offered. There must've been a ratio of five kids to each parent, but that couldn't be right. After a few accidents that often occur on a playground, though, Annabeth understood.

Mothers of others simply passed kids around, as easily as shifting a plate of food around the dinner table. Everyone pitched in. Everyone contributed. If a child cut his finger, a mother gave her child to the woman beside her, helped the screaming child until their tears were soothed, and sent them back to play with a disinfected band aid over the wound. If the mentality really was that it took a village to raise a baby in these apartments, they were doing it extremely well. Forget neighborhood watch- these mothers, Annabeth noticed, we're starting to observe _her._

She hadn't meant to stay so long, either. Things simply… Slowed. Or maybe it was just her, sitting on a bench in a park with nobody but herself as company. Sure, there was an assortment of playground equipment, all piled on top of wood chips and sunken six inches into the ground with plastic barriers as protection. Standard, normal, _boringly_ common. Slides and swings and monkey bars, yes, but it was missing… Well, everything else. Was it just Annabeth, or had park's been getting rid of the the good, old fashioned stuff?

Where was the seesaw? The merry-go-round? The sandboxes and the jungle gym? Those fake animals attached to springs- where had those disappeared off to? Hopscotch, climbing walls, _metal slides-_ what happened to the knitty-gritty, skin-your-knees-and-like-it mentality that came with being that age? It was just- everything was being _baby-proofed,_ and the danger was gone, and the park was still here, but it wasn't a park anymore.

Annabeth hadn't had much experience at parks (until her stepmother had left her in one), but she understood- no, expected -to get hurt in them. It seperate kids early on in life, more so than middle school drama. You found your friends out here first, you figured out which piece of the park was yours. You ran, you tripped, you cried, and when you were done crying you got back up and started it over. It was about _identity._

The boys who went highest on the swings? They became thrill seekers. The girls who played jump rope? They became the rebels. The kids who raced never stopped- they became track stars. The kids who waited for their turn on the slide became student government. Monkey bars became mathletes. Jungle gyms sprouted gymnasts. Everyone found a place. Everyone _fit_ in elementary.

But not Annabeth. Not even then. Annabeth had enjoyed the tunnel most of all: darkly lit and secluded. Sure, some kids crawled through and went over her, but she didn't mind. Annabeth only needed herself.

Did tunnel sitters become teen mothers? She didn't know. The statistics seemed less than sound. No, Annabeth just had really, _really_ bad luck.

But that wasn't the point. Even then, Annabeth _knew_ who everyone was. She knew where _she_ was. The new parks- these child-proofed shells -where not the same. Nothing tough about them, and no lesson behind it all. They just weren't what they used to be. She almost smirk, thinking about it; identity crisis seemed like a big issue nowadays, with everyone coming out of closets and trying to be who _they_ were. It sounded like the park. What was this new, skeletal structure going to produce?

"Are you lost?"

Annabeth hadn't even noticed that someone was sitting right beside her until they had spoken up. It had, truthfully, startled her. Especially since it wasn't an adult beside her, either. It was a little boy, no more than four or five, sitting on the bench beside her. He had the curliest brown hair Annabeth had ever seen, and the biggest, brownest doe eyes. He sat straight, legs not reaching the ground beneath him at all, and Annabeth guessed he'd taken a long time to climb up beside her.

He didn't seem to mind sitting beside a stranger at all. He swung his legs below him, and his hands were clamped down on the edge of his seat. He had a rosy complexion, and Annabeth wished she had a tissue for his runny nose. He wiped his boogers onto his denim overalls, completely oblivious to how both disgusting and adorable it was.

After a few seconds of unbroken eye contact, his eyebrows scrunched together and his lips did this half pout that made Annabeth want to coo. He was just so… _cute._ It was a physical need to pinch his cheeks, but she restrained herself. The hormones could be contained.

"Are you?" He asked.

Annabeth had forgot the question completely, but gave the young boy a hesitant smile. "Am I what?"

" _Lost."_ He said, drawing out the word like it was the simplest thing in the world. He must've been close to four, maybe five. He swung his legs for emphasis, biting his lower lip as he did. He didn't say anything else, but Annabeth was at a loss of words.

She rolled the question over in her mind a few times, because _had it really shown enough that even a four year old could see?_ She wondered what kind of lost he meant. Street wise, at least she wasn't totally incompetent. She could backtrack her way to Grover and Juniper's with (hopefully) no problem. But emotionally? Philosophically? Future-wise?

Where to begin, trying to explain that to a kid? Did she even dare? She cast a quick, worried look around her and realized she had an audience. The park was outlined in benches and grass, and a few women were silently watching her from across the field. She didn't like the attention. "I hope so." She finally said. Hope. Every child could relate to hope, right? She hadn't used too big of words?

His eyebrows scrunched further together, and Annabeth wondered if this boy's parents ever intended on getting this kid a haircut. Had they ever gotten him a haircut? His eyebrows looked like caterpillars! Once again, Annabeth cast a quick glance around, wondering if she could pick out any similar features on any of the women around her. It was concerning, a boy this age talking to a stranger, right? Would someone call the cops? Would Percy have to bail her out for something?

Yes, she was still being watched, but nobody tried to stop her. Quite a few kept eye contact with her when she met their gaze. "You _want_ to be lost?" He said, his voice a little louder, a little bolder. He sounded confused, and Annabeth realized she'd accidentally said something different from what she meant.

"Oh! No, I, um, I know where I am. I just- I've never been here before." She explained, and winced at how bad it sounded. She was never good at articulating her words, and never with children. She always had the urge to 'dumb down' whatever she was saying, or she'd start devolving into fake happy 'baby talk'. She didn't know how to… _interact_ with kids. It wasn't in her nature.

"I know." He said simply. "My mommy says to the other mommies she's ne'ber seen you before." Oh my gosh, he couldn't pronounce his v's. That was just… Too cute. Too much for Annabeth. And the fact that he'd just confirmed her worst fear quickly caused her to blush and bite her lip. Annabeth felt an uncomfortable itch under her skin, and she shifted slightly. She was worried someone might notice her. Her age, her obvious… condition. She felt embarrassed being judged by people she didn't know.

Then again, this was their park. These were _their_ kids. A stranger in a strange land. Of course people, mothers with kids close by especially, would mark her down. Forget the idea that a police tail could be following Percy and, subsequently, her. _Mothers_ scared Annabeth Chase. She'd never had any real experience with one before.

What was _motherhood_ going to be like? She was terrified.

"I just found this park today." She said, shifting again uncomfortably. "It seems… Nice?" She really, _really_ hoped she didn't sound too much like an idiot. Even to a four year old. "I'll probably leave in a few minutes." She said.

"Oh." The boy suddenly looked down at his feet. "I like the slides. Sa'hanna always goes first." He said, frowning. "Do you like slides?" He asked, turning his big brown eyes back to hers. Was she hyperventilating? Kids were usually more shy than this, right? Why was this little boy talking with her, of all people? Annabeth felt like the world had gone silent, waiting for her answer.

"I remember playing on the swings, when I was your age." _When I was your age?_ She sounded like she was in her fifties when she said that, not late teens. And swings weren't exactly her thing, even at that age. She hated the feeling of her stomach going weightless as she started falling backwards. It wasn't fun feeling like she might puke. She'd done enough puking for a long time.

"Swings are fun!" He said loudly, drawing the attention of a few nearby parents. This guy, no older than twenty five, began to frown when he saw her and the boy. Annabeth wished she could hide under her hat. The boy was smiling at her, though. His drastic change in demeanor reminded her of a few _other_ bipolar people she knew. His grin calmed her nerves, at the very least. She tried for another hesitant smile. "I'm Chucky." He said, and the gaps between his teeth became noticeable.

"My name is Annabeth." She said, and realized that she had been speaking quietly as well. She spoke again, just a bit louder. "And yes, they are." She said, sounding completely and thoroughly stupid. She noticed the man frown even further.

"One time, Sa'hanna pushed my so high, I couldn'd see the gwound!" He said, his final 'r' slurring when he spoke. He stood on the bench, barely more than a two feet tall, and raised his arms in emphasis. His little overalls hitched up, showing off his chubby ankles and Annabeth didn't have to give a hesitant smile this time. Instead, it was less strained and more leisurely. That was how she spent the next few minutes, letting him tell her stories while she listened. She was good at listening.

She wished that she could've had this. Maybe not the simple relationship with a stranger- Annabeth fully expected his parents to appear -but just a happy, stress free attitude like this. Her childhood hadn't been bright, and the more she dwelt on it the worse it seemed. But _this-_ the apartments and other parents and general _communal_ feeling she got from the others around her was a fresh perspective.

During one of Chucky's stories about his playtime, Annabeth had a sudden realization. These feelings, the protectiveness and togetherness she felt from this park, could be… Theirs. She wasn't far off from her own addition, was she? Twenty one weeks at the very least, twenty three at most. She could have… _this_ everyday for _years_ if she could give parenting her best shot. I mean, it wasn't like she was going to mess up as horribly as her father had, right? Her parents had been prime examples of what _not_ to do. She just had to put in effort, and she'd already be a step ahead.

Annabeth tested herself, putting her hand onto her belly as Chucky spoke. No awkwardness or anxiety. No phantom pain or embarrassment. Her smile widened.

…

Chucky was pleasant company, but inevitably he had seen Savannah, his best friend, playing on the slide and excused himself. Or, he pointed out a girl with red pigtails and ran without any other words. Annabeth had smiled to herself, uncaring of the stares she had attracted while sitting with the preschooler. When he left, the eyes left. She felt as if she'd passed some form of test, and when she'd noticed the time she'd chosen to leave.

The walk back to the apartment was fairly nice. The sun still shone, the cars still honked, and the buildings still stood- everything was the way it always was. Everything was going to be okay. For the first time in a long time, that phrase wasn't hollow. It was a promise to herself.

She made it up the stairs to the apartment without being seen by Juniper, which meant Juniper hadn't noticed she'd been gone for two hours. But, as all great sneaks tend to do, Annabeth still found herself measuring each step carefully, trying to remain as quiet as she could. It wasn't as if she were worried about being seen- Grover was still working, and Percy would be on his way to the apartment for dinner -but she didn't want the stillness shattered. If her mood changed, she was afraid she'd never get it back again.

But as she opened the door, her mood deflated instantaneously.

Percy didn't normally cook. He helped Juniper with salads and snuck food from the counter when he thought no one was looking. As far as Annabeth knew, Percy _couldn't_ cook. He ate almost as much as Annabeth did since her change in appetite, but she wasn't aware he might be able to actually make something.

Yet here he stood, a picture of domestic tranquility as he chopped vegetables. There was some kind of pot, suspended on its own stool? What were those called? Ramen sat off to the side, uncooked- whatever he was making involved at least some basic product. Carrots, broccoli, peppers, onions- she could smell the seasonings. She could almost imagine whatever he was making on her plate tonight. Chicken and beef were pushed to the side, ready to enter whatever was being made.

She didn't speak, but her child was another matter entirely. Her stomach began to rumble impossibly loud, and considering Percy must've been only accustomed to a knife slicing against a cutting board it was no surprise he heard. He didn't turn, though. In fact Annabeth wouldn't have thought he'd heard her enter if his cutting hadn't faltered slightly. She was frozen in place, eyes wide. What was he doing here so early?

Finally, he threw the smallest of glances over his shoulder. She just barely saw his green eye inspect her. "Nice dress." He commented curtly, continuing to cut vegetables. The rhythm of the knife chopping down rang as clear as a heartbeat. He didn't offer any other comment.

"Thanks." She said slowly, after a moment of silence as he moved the cut vegetables off to the side. He pulled out a second cutting board, beginning to prepare the meat. The knife flashed under the kitchen light. "What're you making?" She asked, curiosity overtaking her.

He cleaned the knife off with a washcloth, turning it over to make sure it was well washed. "Dinner." He said, returning to cutting the meat. The beef was already a juicy brown, smoothly severing itself with each roll of Percy's wrist. The chicken was just as well done, a white and yellow/orange that looked beyond tasty.

"I mean, what are you making _for_ dinner?" She asked, an irritating itch beginning to form at the back of her head. Her mouth twitched.

"Oh, right. It's called Yaki Ramen. Something my mom used to make." He said calmly, still cutting the meat. His posture was remarkably straight, and his voice steely calm. She'd heard Percy speak of his mother, but it always held a certain amount of reverence. This had to be the first time he'd used her with indifference. "It should be ready in half an hour. Is that alright?"

Was his cutting getting louder? Annabeth couldn't be sure. She mentally clicked the normal schedule that the four of them had into place. They never had dinner this early. "What about Grover and Juniper?" She asked, her arms suddenly feeling cold. She wished she had worn something with longer sleeves.

Percy turned a knob on the pot itself, and the barest flicker of orange light came from the base of it. He had barely moved, but seemed more than anxious to cut the meat again. The knife continually moved up and down, missing his own fingers by mere inches. _Chop. Chop. Chop. Chop._ Annabeth counted chops, not seconds, before he spoke again. "Date night tonight. I figured they could use a break." He said.

 _Chop. Chop. Chop. Chop._ Annabeth frowned, and a sense of urgency began to overtake her mind. Her arms were covered in goosebumps, and her eyes caught the way the blade glinted every time the light reflected back into her eyes. "A break from what?" She asked.

 _Chop chop chop chop chop._ The blade was suddenly going faster. Annabeth couldn't see Percy's face, but his fingers moved at lightning speeds, just barely avoiding a cut. Maybe the sauce coming off of the steak _was_ a bit red. Was he accidentally cutting himself? "They seemed stressed. Juniper is trying to keep up with the demand, even though her work load is too much and Grover is getting longer hours since he accepted the position as manager." Percy said, his voice ringing with a little more steel than before. "I just figured… They needed a break." _A break from us._

"Oh." It was all she could think to say. She'd known that. She'd heard Grover's crutches cracking against the stairs later each night since she'd gotten there. She'd seen Juniper's kind eyes becoming marred by bruises forming under her eyes. Annabeth _had_ those bruises. _Chop chop chop chop chop._

Annabeth watched how his shoulders rolled with each chop. She watched his muscles constrict under his black long sleeve t-shirt and saw how they didn't seem to loosen fully when he tried to relax them. They simply became _less_ tense. Had they always been that way? Had Percy always been so… Curt?

Of course not. The real Percy was never like that. Percy was outgoing. Percy was a fun-loving, trouble making introvert. He wasn't ever tense around people he knew. He wasn't closed off from whatever group he was in. Percy didn't do 'curt'.

"Are you okay?"

The words slipped out after her thoughts had concurred he must _not_ be okay. Her lips had a tendency to move when she was trying to transition between problems and solutions. Her mind, ever so complex, had never had to filter her thoughts from exiting her mouth, except for when she was around Percy.

Percy was always the exception.

 _Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop._ He was done with cutting the beef into strips. Now, he focused on turning the strips into bite-sized pieces. "Hmm? Fine. I'm fine." He said.

He was lying. He had to be lying, or perhaps covering something up. Annabeth couldn't ever differentiate between a good lie and the truth, but Percy wasn't that good at _lying._ Confusing her with double meanings or things he wasn't even sure about himself, sure. But lying to Annabeth? That wasn't like him. Nor was it like him to be this passive. "You didn't ask me how my walk went." She said.

He spoke as fast as he chopped. A bit too fast. A bit too breezily. "I didn't think you'd want me to." He replied. His chopping suddenly switched pace. _Chop chop. Chop chop. Chop chop. Chop chop._ "I didn't think you'd want to talk about it." He admitted. His voice was still curt. He was trying too hard to appear normal. Trying too hard to sound happy.

"I don't." She said, her eyes suddenly squinting in suspicion. She took a step forward, removing the wide brimmed hat and sunglasses from her head. The colors around her became more defined. The steam from the pot became clear to her.

The sweat on his hands. The sweat on the side of his face.

"But I still thought you might ask." She said, keeping the dialogue going. This was the longest conversation they'd had in days. "This is the first time I've ever left without telling anyone."

 _Chop Chop Chop Chop._ The knife picked up speed. The sweat from his skin glinted as brightly as the knife had been seconds ago. "I'm not your warden, and this isn't a prison." He replied breezily. "If you want to go outside without telling anyone, that's okay." He was done with the beef. He quickly scooted it off to the side and cleaned the knife for a third time. His hands were pale. They shook slightly when they stretched outwards.

"But wouldn't you want me to tell you? Or at least tell Juniper?" She asked, stepping even closer. She set the hat and sunglasses on the table. He pulled the chicken onto the cutting board. _Chop Chop Chop Chop Chop._

"I-I-" Percy stuttered, too late realizing that he wasn't really acting normal. That she knew something was off. He cleared his throat and his cutting faltered because of it. "Yeah. But there's no use arguing about it now. You're back anyways, so… it doesn't matter." His words sounded almost bitter. "You're forgiven."

She stepped closer, as if approaching a wounded animal. She didn't know why he was acting this way, but she suspected… She suspected it was why he wouldn't meet her eye. "And if I don't want your forgiveness?" She asked, still moving closer. That knife looked really menacing suddenly. The chopping intensified. _ChopChop ChopChop ChopChop._

"Then don't accept it. If I can't make you happy here or anywhere else or- I don't know, take as many walks as you want. Don't tell me where you're going, if you're coming back- just give up on me already." He said, and Annabeth could just see the right side of his face. Sweat shone around it, on his hands and on his neck. His teeth were clenched, and his face as white as a sheet. _ChopChopChopChopCho-_

Annabeth grabbed him gently, though he stilled immediately after her fingers wrapped around wrist. She guided his hand upwards a little, away from the cutting board and away from the chicken he'd been chopping. When she squeezed his wrist lightly, his eye darted to her own. He dropped the knife he'd had in his vice like grip.

She brought her other hand up to his forehead, swiping a few loose strands away from his eyes. He kept his right side towards her, and his eye darted back and forth, away from her face. His clenched first was still pale, and his knuckles stretched over the skin there. He wouldn't move, standing completely still.

"What's wrong?" She asked impatiently, still clutching his wrist in her much smaller hand. There wasn't the same thrill as before. There wasn't the same amount of excitement, or any gentle touches like there had once been. It felt… Dead. Whatever connection they had felt like it hung by a thread. He took a deep, shaky breath but said nothing.

Annabeth tried tugging on his wrist to get him to move. She pulled repeatedly, trying to move him to face her fully. He simply planted himself more firmly than before, a small flash of defiance lighting up his right eye. She narrowed her eyes, taking a step to go behind and around him. He began to shift and Annabeth was back on his right in a flash.

She saw the black eye. She saw the split lip and bruised cheek and… _gods,_ they looked horrible. His left hand came up to shield himself from her, but that only revealed his split knuckles. His bruised neck. He looked like he'd been in a car accident, or mugged. "Percy, what happened?" She demanded, feeling a sudden tightening in her chest she hadn't had a moment before.

He kept his lips pressed tightly together, a painful act to perform with a split lip, Annabeth knows. He still won't meet her eyes, but she doesn't care about that. The hand not grabbing his wrist reaches out again, this time feeling the _left_ side of his forehead. Her hand comes away feeling sticky- _is he bleeding?_

"Percy-" she takes a step closer, turning him as she does and the his back collides with the counter behind him. His sharp intake of breath and closed eyes say it all to Annabeth: there's more to this. Whoever did this hadn't stopped at his face. He must've been in extreme pain…

Annabeth knew pain. She knew what a brutal beating left. She'd experienced them before.

But Percy seemed to be putting a lot of weight onto the counter behind him, leaning against it. He shifted his weight onto his right foot, but immediately went back onto his left. Annabeth caught the movement. She memorized it. She found herself comparing to it…

"Percy, what hurts?" She demanded, grabbing both of his wrists. He didn't try to pull away, but he still wouldn't meet her eye, either. "Percy, talk to me. Where does it hurt?" She said.

"I've already bandaged most of it." He mumbled, speaking for the first time. His voice was small and tired, completely yielding. "It isn't a big deal, Annabeth." He said, pulling his arms closer to himself. Annabeth's hands stuck to his wrists, and she was in turn pulled closer to him. She craned her neck to look into his eyes, and still his gaze wouldn't stay long on her.

"Then why try to hide it from me?" She challenged, not backing away. Her voice took on an edge, and she could see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed. He shifted forward, and she in turn stepped back.

"Because I knew you might get like this! Really, I'll be fine- I just, you know, walked into the wrong neighborhood today." He said, trying to make it sound much less painful than it was. She hesitated for a moment because _why did this seem so familiar?_ She shook off the feeling, taking another step closer to him and filling the gap between them simultaneously.

"I _know_ a bad beating when I see one, Percy." She said rather coldly. His eyes flickered to hers at her angry words. "Don't tell me it 'isn't so bad' when you can't even stand straight." She said, emphasizing her point by putting the slightest bit of her own weight against his right thigh, pinning it. He gasped, immediately pushing her away from his leg. Annabeth saw his teeth grinding together in pain. His eyes flashed in distress.

"I'm _fine,_ Annabeth." He assured her through gritted teeth. He pushed her away again, this time with a fraction more force than before. She thought he might try to walk past her, or travel into the living room or bathroom, but instead he turned back to his cooking. He picked up the knife again, pressing into the chicken with more force than necessary. She stood directly behind him, silently demanding answers.

Percy cut through the chicken. He tossed the meat, veggies, and noodles into the pot and set the heat and timer. He did it all without looking at her, and without a single shred of sympathy for her patience. She was done dancing around subjects. She was done skirting around him like he was the plague. She didn't want half-answers, she didn't want excuses, witty comments, or dead silence. She'd been depriving herself for too long of the only substance he could provide her. _Answers._

"I _want_ to give up, Percy! I _want_ to walk out of this apartment every hour of every day because I'm sick of this 'us' thing you wanted to try being so _one-sided!"_ She screamed. The thin walls of the apartment shook slightly at her tone. "I'm stuck in this relationship with a self-centered, secretive _drug dealer!_ How am I supposed to be happy with you if I don't know anything about you?" She asked, pleading for any sort of reaction.

Percy's palms slammed against the counter with as much power as Annabeth's voice had held before. It left Annabeth startled at the noise, commanding attention and displaying his obvious anger. His fingers curled until his split left knuckle was as evident as the white, taunt muscles on his right. He turned, albeit slowly and what appeared painfully, until he was facing her again. "Don't _ever_ call me that." He commanded quietly. His voice was a low growl.

Annabeth recovered, her hands forming fists at her sides. They came up in exasperation, opening as explosively as her words. "How am I supposed to _know better?_ I don't see you work, but you _always_ have enough money! We can't see a normal doctor, but we can go to a clinic that your 'cousin' set up in an office suite? You get pulled in by the police- _where they have your face on the wall -_ and yet you expect me to believe we were pulled into an organized crime building because you allegedly stole a car-"

"That belongs to my foster dad!" He butted in.

"Who I've never even _met_! Shouldn't I have seen a picture of him by now _,_ at the very least? Shouldn't I know who you are? What you do for a living? Where you actually _live?"_ She questioned. Percy was silent. His fists were as clenched as hers had been. "I don't even know Grover and Juniper that well! Should I just pray that none of you are waiting for me to get too fat to run and then let you kill me?"

"What are you even talking about?" Percy asked in exasperation. His hands ran through his hair in apparent frustration. "Of course you can trust them! They're my friends! They're letting you stay in their home!"

"Because they know I'm important to _you!"_ She screamed, tears threatening to fall out of her eyes for some odd reason. "I- I can't do this anymore, Percy. I feel like I'm living in an episode of some crime thriller, and I'm constantly out of the loop, and- and- I just can't do this."

Percy was quiet for a moment. His hands rested at his side again, completely relaxed. His sigh was labored and loud. "What do you want to do, Annabeth? Moving back in with your parents isn't an option. I can get you another apartment somewhere, because I will if that's what you want." He hesitated before speaking again. "Do you just want to leave? Do you really want to just end… This?"

"I don't want to have to make this decision." She said seriously. "I didn't want it to come to this, but I _need_ answers, Percy. I need to hear the truth from _you."_

"The truth sucks." He deadpanned.

Annabeth gave out a small, humorless chuckle. "I know that. I know that more than anybody." She said.

"Not more than me." Percy said, his tone hollow. Annabeth didn't argue with him. She didn't know if that was the truth or not. Not yet.

"But you'll tell me? We can sit down- right now -and have a serious discussion about all of this? About… Whatever it is you may or may not be involved in?" She asked, eyebrows raised. He only nodded in confirmation, his expression as hollow as his voice had been.

They both stood across from each other for a minute, neither one of them speaking. The only noise was the ticking of the wall clock and the gentle sizzling of the Yaki Ramen. She assessed him, looking for a sign of a lie or a glimpse of fear or dishonesty. All she saw was her reflection in his hollow expression as he assessed _her._ She wished she knew what for.

Finally, Percy nodded to her, his tongue jutting outwards and poking his cheek out. It gave him a boyish quality she hadn't seen in him in what felt like ages. He pointed towards the food. "I need to go change my bandages before dinner. Can we talk after?"

"After you're out of the bathroom?"

"After dinner. That would be better."

Annabeth second guessed his motives, but eventually nodded in agreement. Percy went to walk past her in the crowded kitchen, and ended up ghosting his hand against the small of her back.

She didn't flinch away.

…

"Percy?"

Annabeth had considered the patience she'd mustered for him to be a blessing, but slowly she was beginning to think she was being taken advantage of. She'd heard the shower going a few minutes after he'd gone into the bathroom, but then it had been cut off abruptly only five minutes later. Annabeth had shrugged it off, taking the opportunity to change from her sundress into a pair of sweats and a short sleeve t-shirt.

But now, she'd been waiting for over half an hour. She'd had enough time to set the table, stir their dinner while it simmered, and washed all the dishes in the sink. She'd even managed to finish the crossword puzzle in the paper beside the counter. She had exhausted all avenues of wasting time, and the only assurance that he hadn't passed out in the bathroom was the occasional curse or stomp that she could hear through the thin walls.

She knocked again, this time a little louder. Still, she couldn't hear him answering on the other side of the door. Not even a shuffling of him moving. "Percy, no one takes this long to use the bathroom. What're you doing in there?" She demanded, frowning. She began to bounce on the balls of her feet, restless. "Seriously, open the door Percy."

Annabeth's restlessness was turning into frustration when she _did_ begin to hear him moving around in the bathroom. She heard his feet moving against wet tile, and heard something glass hitting against… Something. The sink suddenly turned on. "Yeah, uh, sorry… I- I'll be out in a minute. Then we can talk." He said. Annabeth frowned when she heard his slow response and quiet tone. Had he fallen asleep in the bathroom?

She heard the sound of the water in the sink being muffled, as if someone had thrown a rag under the flow. Annabeth suddenly tensed when she could smell it. The metallic taste filled her mouth. The bitter smell of… Annabeth turned from the door on the ball of her foot, running as fast as she could to her bedroom. She threw her door open, trying hard to focus on where she'd put her purse. She searched by her bed until she saw it, lunging for her wallet.

When she had her rectangle-shaped wallet in her hand, she quickly opened it, turning it upside down. Annabeth heard the clanging noise of coins colliding with the ground, and she picked up a quarter in momentary success.

She swiftly made her way back to the bathroom as quickly as she could, change in hand. The sink was still running, but she could hear the water much more clearly than before. She swiftly knocked again, much more urgently and intensely than she had before. Her wrist hurt at the movement. "Jackson, you better hope you're wearing pants!" She yelled, placing the coin at the entrance to the cheap lock. She heard his grunted protest as the lock disengaged and she pulled the door open in one swift movement.

She hadn't been afraid of him being naked (she couldn't say it wasn't anything she hadn't seen before), but luckily she had assumed correctly that he was wearing _something._ The smell she had guessed before was much more prominent, and much more real when the substance it belonged to was in plain sight. She wanted to recoil, but she forced herself not to.

Percy was sitting on the countertop, his right leg propped onto the toilet seat and his shirt off. He had replaced his jeans with a pair of shorts that appeared a few sizes too big, which probably meant they were Grover's. His leg, now bare, was noticeably, horribly injured. Black and purple bruises marred the skin, along with a handful of scrapes and scratches. His ankle was swollen, and the sight of it was enough for Annabeth to lose her already waning appetite.

But what really made Annabeth want to run away and lock the door to her room was his stomach. Yes, there was obvious bruising. More purple than black, but focused around his abdomen. What really concerned Annabeth was the chunk missing from his left side. It wasn't prominent, maybe two inches, or three and a half in diameter, if it were circular. It was a dark red color, and just looking at it sent a wave of that same smell from before. The fresh smell of blood.

Percy had been stabbed. The original gash that Annabeth was looking at wasn't deep, but it was obvious that a part of the wound was deeper than the rest. Blood exited his body in a trickle, but that wasn't any less menacing than gushing could've been to her. Blood was blood. Pain was pain. Judging by his scrunched up face and hot tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, he was experiencing some serious pain.

"Holy crap, Percy." She whispered, covering her mouth with her hands. She saw his hands clutched desperately to a torn scrap of cloth, already soaked through in red. Water still clung to the sink, a light pink that shone against the white porcelain. "Holy crap." She repeated. She gave his whole form an inspection, seeing the scattered bruises on his arms, his chest, his other leg… How had he even been _standing?_

"I'm fine." He gasped, tears running down his face. His voice cracked as he spoke, but he still said it in the same way he always did: assuring. Maybe he was trying to assure himself, not her. Annabeth was not assured in any way. She took a few tentative steps forward, gently reaching out. ' _What hurts',_ she'd asked. Now she wondered what _couldn't_ be hurting right now.

"Percy, who did this to you?" She pleaded, but he simply kept his eyes screwed tight and bit on his upper lip in desperation. She wasn't even sure he could hear her speaking. He was in no condition to answer her, let alone help himself. Why couldn't she have seen this before? Why hadn't she helped him?

Gently, she probed at his stomach with her fingers, feeling for any broken bones or bruised ribs. She did this kind of check often enough for herself, but never had found herself in a situation to do it for others. She hoped she could do this. Her nerves began to skyrocket when each poke let Percy gasping for air, winded.

"It'll be fine." She said, reassuring him when he cried out. His skin was pale, and his hands shook horribly. His free hand found a grip on her shirt, and he held tight to it like a lifeline. The material was probably stretching, but Annabeth couldn't find it in her heart to care.

Quite suddenly, Annabeth felt all her frustration taking form as she worked, pulling out rubbing alcohol and extra rags. She found a roll of duct tape as well, stored beside the bathroom cleaner under the sink, and she silently thanked Juniper.

Her hands moved frantically, but not as hazardously as Percy had been. Her face began to form into a sneer as she worked, more angry than she had ever been at him. What was he _thinking,_ trying to _hide this?!_ What was he doing that could've led to him being _stabbed?_ And _why was he MAKING DINNER?_ Annabeth felt her own emotions taking her past angry until she went numb. Until it was just her and a body that needed her care.

She couldn't do anything about the bruises, but she could try to understand more about his stab. She hadn't ever needed to bandage anything like this, and she'd never thought she'd be placed in this situation. Had she read any books, or studied any…

Oh. _Oh._

"Hazel, you are a godsend." Annabeth whispered. The most nervous, most over-achieving girl in the entire world. She'd skipped grades to end up in high school early, and who had been there to help her study for her EMT classes? Who had _read the book_ to help her study?

Had there been anything in there about stab wounds? Had there been anything about how to tell how deep a wound was? She wasn't sure. It all seemed so… _fuzzy._ Annabeth felt her breathing start to deepen. Her own hands began to shake. Her whole thought process began to shut down-

No. _No._ She could do this. She _had_ to do this. No one else was going to be in the apartment anytime soon, if Juniper and Grover really _were_ going on a date. Annabeth could call the paramedics, or take Percy to the hospital, and really she _should._ Percy wasn't in his right mind if he thought the apartment would be a better place to go to for medical aid instead of a place that actually _offered_ medical aid. Any other building would have better medical supplies.

Right?

But no, Percy was smart. He was smart enough to know that whoever had done this to him might want to finish what they'd started. This could've been an attempt on his life, and she doesn't know who could've made said attempted. He had enemies with the police, right? Far fetched as it might be, Detectives Pete and Tyrone seemed like they had a score to settle with him. But would they have gone this far? Would they risk their careers to kill a teenager?

She doesn't know, but she knows Percy came here. She knows he knew Grover and Juniper would be out of the house, so that would've left only her. He thought that if anyone could do it, she could. He _trusted_ her to be here.

And she hadn't been there… So he'd started to cook? To get his mind off of the pain? To distract him? He must've been using some serious painkillers before, if he'd been coordinated enough to pick up and use a knife…

But he hadn't told her about his stab wound. He hadn't told her he needed her help. Had he just assumed he could fix it all himself? Annabeth couldn't believe that. Percy needed her help. No matter what he might've thought before, she could help him now.

" _Stab wounds… What stabbed him."_ Annabeth could hear her friend's inquisitive voice playing at the back of her mind. " _Size, shape, and depth of the wound are important, and it matters where he's been stabbed."_ She had said. Annabeth remembers them miming stabs in the library, receiving dirty looks from the librarian in the process. If Annabeth remembered correctly, the torso was a bad place to be stabbed. Organs and muscle tissue…

Annabeth whispered an apology to Percy, and began to probe the stab wound.

His scream was high pitched and shrill, half choked by his efforts to keep the noise inside of his throat. Percy whimpered and began to breath heavily, his distress evident in the way his body trembled. Annabeth winced when she felt his raw flesh against her fingers, hardly stomaching her breakfast. Hazel was the medical techie, not her. Annabeth hated seeing blood on anybody. Blood on herself that wasn't hers felt… Dirty. Diseased.

The wound was circular, not a slit in his skin like she expected from a knife. Just a single puncture with torn skin around it, like… Whatever it was… Had been pushed hilt deep and twisted. That would be worse than just a regular stab, wouldn't it? That would cause more damage.

Annabeth winced again, imagining someone pushing an object through her skin… Jarring against bone… Cutting through muscle and slipping between tendons… Her whole body shook at the mental image, and she shook off her discomfort. She could do this. She had to do this.

The blood coming out was a dark red, not light red… That was significant, right? Not arterial? Or did that not matter at all? How could she test _depth?_ Put her finger inside and push until she couldn't anymore? She trembled at the thought. The wound was round. It was smaller than her pinky… A manual screwdriver, or a nail…

Annabeth's face went as white as a sheet. A screw. A _screw._ It had to be a screw. The wound… Annabeth could imagine a screw pushed into his abdomen and an electric screwdriver drilling it home. She'd seen her father screwing their dinner table together, years ago when it was still new. He'd used wood screws… An inch long? An inch and a half? The more she inspected the wound, the more it made sense to her. The drill bit tearing skin away, the size and shape…

Was it still in there? Annabeth made it quick, poking around it. Percy's hand that was gripping her shirt pulled, stretching the fabric further. She heard his small cry of protest, and quietly shushed him. His head began to droop, falling against her left shoulder. She left it there, letting his hot tears fall against her collarbone. "I'm sorry." She murmured. "I'm sorry. Just give me ten more seconds." She promised. After the allotted time, she sighed in relief: no screw. Just a hole.

" _If it's not too bad, you clean and bandage it. Check daily for infection, seek serious medical attention when it first happens."_ Annabeth ignored the ' _serious medical attention'_ part. If Percy had wanted serious medical attention, he would've sought it out. He came back to his pregnant girlfriend instead and got yelled at. He'd chosen this instead… Instead of anywhere else. Why?

Annabeth wanted to be done. She wanted to leave the wound be and drag him into her bed and let him sleep it off as if it were a common cold. She wanted to call a hospital and dump the problem there. But she couldn't. Annabeth was anxious and terrified and worried and Percy was _here._

Cleaning the wound. She had to clean the wound. She grabbed a rag within reach, resting on the toilet seat beside his injured leg. It was made of a soft, almost fuzzy material, and she hoped it would be comfortable enough for him. The rubbing alcohol sat beside the sink. It took her a few precious moments to concentrate, but her shaky hands finally stilled enough to pour a substantial amount onto the rag. She screwed the cap back on slowly, then placed the bottle back against the sink.

"This is going to hurt." She warned, then pressed the rag against the marred flesh of his wound.

His hand was no longer just gripping her shirt, but her hip as well. His fingers dug into her flesh, causing her to wince as he did so. His shrill cry was cut off once again by his throat constricting, and he settled with burying his face as far as he could into her bare neck. She felt his bared, gritted teeth against the base of her neck. His other hand was white, clutching the countertop he sat against.

She held the rag there, pressing against his flesh for what felt like hours. She waited, motionless and breathless, until his hands relaxed and his tears dried. She reached around him with her free hand and kept a reassuring touch against the small of his back. His chest still rattled, his muscles contracting with each breath. His whole body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, but still she held him there. Not that he was going to let go of her, either. His vice like grip kept her pinned.

"Shhh." She whispered into his ear, though he never spoke. She hoped the noise was as soothing as it could be. "Shhh." Though his whole body stilled eventually, she didn't move away, and he didn't let her go. His hand that not thirty minutes before had tried to tear her shirt now rubbed her side in apology. She stood, suddenly understanding that whatever answers he would give her were as dark as they could get.

…

Percy pushed _himself_ up off of the sink, which seemed to Annabeth the most incredible feat any man with a stomach wound could have. Even as she tried to gently put him on the toilet seat, or compromise with letting him lay in the tub, he simply grunted and began moving towards wherever he wanted to go.

Was it annoying? To Annabeth, yes, but not at the given time. She felt the adrenaline that had been pushing through her half an hour ago suddenly light up like gasoline in her bloodstream again. She nearly tackled him when he tried to move past her and get into the hall, and she knew very well it would probably hurt.

But when she ended up putting just a fraction of an ounce of pressure on his wound with her rag, his sharp yelp and grimace of pain immediately caused her to back off in alarm. His left hand gripped the doorframe with a pale, stretched grip that really showed off his split knuckle and looked agonizing in general. His other, right hand was reached across his stomach until his own hand covered the rag, and consequently her own right hand. Annabeth could feel his clammy skin against her frail hand. She hadn't even _known_ she'd been shaking. Or was _he_ shaking?

"Couch." He said, his voice thick with pain. Already his chest was beginning to expand and retract faster than it should. His closed eyes didn't give any emotion away. "Couch." He repeated.

Annabeth wasn't an idiot. Percy wasn't one, either, but she _knew_ her room was half of that distance. As it were, her door was still open and she could _see_ the bed. She was _not_ letting him stain their friend's couch with Percy's blood when they could change sheets in a few days (or weeks- really, she might just lock him up for a month). Although his eyes were closed, she steadied her gaze at him and spoke with as much authority as she could muster. "My room. Non-negotiable."

Before he could protest (if he even would), Annabeth travelled over to his right side, careful not to step on his leg. She locked her left arm around his back and under his exposed armpit, then lifted him in an attempt to keep pressure off of his leg. She could already feel his sweat clinging to her side, gluing her in place. Her right hand stayed pressed between the rag and his calloused palm. "Keep your left leg off the ground and prop yourself against the wall with your free hand. It's only a couple of feet- that's it." She assured, taking a step as he took a step.

Their pace was slow, lethargic, and clumsy. He winced with each step, though he only hopped in his condition. She grunted with exertion, depending on him to keep them balanced. His left forearm smacked against the wall, creating a beat they could work to: _step-hop Smack! Step-hop Smack! Step-hop Smack!_ Each step brought them closer to her room.

Annabeth felt… Strange. Like, really really… _tingly._ Her breath began coming out in small pants, just as Percy's were, and her head began to feel heavy on her shoulders. Was Percy trying to crawl on top of her, or was he just suddenly heavier? And why was her vision… Wavy? Like, flickering. Why… Why was she suddenly feeling this way?

Annabeth found herself at her door, Percy nearly in tow. His head was pressed firmly against his left shoulder, as if trying to cover his ear from an unknown sound. A new layer of sweat was gathering on his brow, trickling off… Sliding down his forehead and to his nose… To his lips… He was panting heavily. His tongue was nearly falling from his mouth, completely exposed… And his eyes were opened now. Focused… She really liked the color of his eyes… Like, even when they were intimidating. They were so… So… _vibrant._

In the back of her mind, Annabeth registered that Percy was at her bed and trying to sit down, and she was hindering his progress by pressing herself so closely to him, but… Something inside of Annabeth was going _crazy…_ she _liked_ being this close to him. Had it always been like that? Had she enjoyed it when his body was pressed against hers? She remembered her bedroom, just a week ago… She had pushed away, yes, but that was _because_ she'd liked it, right? She couldn't remember. When he'd picked her up… Their walk… That had felt _right._ They'd _fit._

New Years… New Years was a whole different story. She could remember every detail of she focused long enough. Those lips against hers. Those intense green eyes, and that dark, thick hair… Her fingers had gotten tangled in it, and at the time she couldn't care less. Why did she have the urge to do it again?

Just another kiss, right? He'd probably kissed dozens of girls before her (because she _knew_ his first kiss couldn't have been her), and it wasn't like she'd been prudent with Luke (though, Percy had been her first). But he wouldn't push away, would he? He'd put his arms around her again… She'd run her hands through his hair for a bit… And maybe, just maybe…

The world returned to color, a bright flash of white and blue and red and so many different hues and shades and- it was like an awakening. An awakening of the senses she'd just realized we're beginning to dull. Or had they been dull for a while? Annabeth couldn't be sure when she'd blacked out-

Warmth. On her mouth, warmth.

Annabeth realized where she was. She realized what she was _doing._ Almost her entire vision was dark hair and glistening skin and green. A bright, vibrant green that clearly resembled the ocean on a peaceful day. She could see her reflection in his dilated pupils, completely open and vulnerable and out for him to see. _Bare. Completely_ and _utterly see through._

His lower lip was captured by her own, and he was looking at her with the most shocked, exposed, and raw emotion he could have ever given her. He was so _shocked,_ so unprepared and unexpecting of this course of action she had rendered him speechless. To be completely honest, Annabeth was mirroring his expression and feelings to a 'T'. She was lying in her bed, on her side, _making out_ with Percy Jackson while he held a bloody rag to his side. This was _not_ the kind of situation that leads up to a kiss.

Her cheeks were aflame, and with the utmost embarrassment the realization struck her that she still held his lower lip in her own. She pulled away, letting go as she did and electing a painful grunt as she moved away. She tasted metal against her tongue and realized that the lip she'd had in her mouth was split, and she'd probably made it worse and he's still staring at her and and and-

"I- I- I-" she tried to form an apology, but it came out a looping stutter, unstoppable. Her hands, which had been wrapped across his body still, now pulled away as if he were acidic. Her heart thundered in her chest, beating faster with each passing moment until her pulse might stop completely and she might be given the mercy of a quick death. Her complete embarrassment was enough to leave her mind blank, though she continued to struggle in forming coherent words to him. "I- It- Jus- Didn- sor-"

He simply stared, jaw slack as she continued to try and speak. His skin was still covered in sweat, and his body lay limp against the bed, but he leaned up against her pillows and bed frame in complete astonishment as she tried in vain to speak English. She gathered from his expression, she could be speaking fluent Greek for all he cared. It was finally after he began to blink, gaining his own bearings, that he was able to stop her. "You… You just…"

"Yes!" She accidentally yelled, his own coherent thinking jumpstarting her mind. "I- yes- I… I…"

"Yeah." He said, voice soft. She didn't notice the way the rag he held pressed even deeper into his side. "Y-yeah."

Annabeth didn't speak. Percy didn't speak. He simply held eye contact with her, letting silence slowly seep into the cracks of… Whatever had just happened. Or maybe what _hadn't_ happened. She could see his eyes. She focused on them, as if they were going to somehow enlighten her with answers to what he might be thinking. To be able to understand what he was doing, reading into a situation she hadn't meaningfully caused.

At least, she hopes it meant nothing.

It was at this moment Annabeth felt _his_ gaze. She could see past his green eyes and see the gears in his head turning and it was suddenly too much. What if he came to the wrong conclusion? What he over reacts, or worse, thinks he can capitalize on the situation? She doesn't know… She doesn't know what to say, or what to do.

"Dinner's cold." She said, and walked out of the room. His eyes followed after her.

…

Bandaging Percy was the hardest part of the entire night. She'd already given him a few painkillers, but they didn't seem all that effective against whatever he was facing. He struggled, albeit tiredly, as she sat him up in her bed. She'd had to sit behind him, trying to keep his oversized rear from crashing down against her and crushing her between the mattress and himself. When he'd start falling back, out of tiredness or pain or whatever, Annabeth reminded him that she was there, and he sat right back up as she worked.

He'd been keeping pressure against his wound for so long, it felt like she was trying to remove a boulder from the ground. His muscles had tensed hours ago, as if they understood that the pressure has to stay. Annabeth coaxed his arm off within a few minutes, but still he groaned at the tenderness of his wound. As she traded his dry, brown rag with a fresh white, alcohol covered cloth, he let out a whimper that made her question his mental strength. How long would it take before his body won out and shut down? Before she'd need to dial 911 and get him to an ambulance?

Annabeth shook those thoughts away. He'd stopped sweating, and she'd given him enough water to know he wasn't dehydrated. He would be fine. He _had_ to be fine. Otherwise, she might lose the only person who seemed even remotely interested in keeping her happy.

How selfish and desperate was that?

Annabeth had him hold the cloth in place as she set aside the dirty rag onto the nightstand. It wasn't as bad as she thought, seeing as how only the side covering the wound was coated in dried blood. Maybe the bleeding stopped, and he was okay now. She'd just have to watch closely, and keep him fed and safe and make sure he didn't get up. All while trying to remain stressless and make a healthy baby.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. She could do that. She had Grover and Juniper to help, and it wasn't like she hadn't nursed _herself_ back to health. It may not be a common cold, but… Annabeth trusted herself. As she wrapped the gauze around the wound, she slowly pulled his hand away from the cloth and had it rest at his side. He ducked his head forward, sighing in relief.

"Thank you." He whispered, his voice raspy and tired. Annabeth's heart skipped a beat at the sound, and the fact she had her arms wrapped around him from behind suddenly felt more intimate than it had been a moment before. Her hand still rested on his, while her other hand sat on his leg. His grateful words made her feel… Calmer. Like this was a verbal confirmation that he would be okay.

"Thank me when it's healed." She muttered, and the hand resting on his lap reached over to smooth out the gauze. She could feel his muscles contract under her touch, moving like a machine. "I still have to look at your leg, and I don't even know what to _do_ about the bruises." She said.

Percy didn't respond, besides keeping his head resting forwards against his chest. Annabeth could see the nape of his neck clearly, finding it untouched. His hair formed a 'V', and as Annabeth felt her breathing steady her breath puffed against the skin. They sat like that for a moment, her stomach squished against his lower back, warmth leaching between them.

When she did pull away, she was careful to not look him in the eye. When she spoke, she didn't let her voice waver, though she was certain some unseen emotion would somehow bubble up to the surface as she did. "Lie down for a minute. I want to take a look at your leg." She said, both calm and clear yet brokering no argument from him. Although, to be fair, he hadn't complained to her yet.

He didn't protest, though his sharp intake of breath was indication to her that he was still in pain. She bit her lip, trying to imagine what it must feel like, but quickly hopped off of that train of thought. If she thought about the pain, she'd start imagining how it got there, and Annabeth had a really, _really_ vivid imagination when it came to receiving pain.

He was still in shorts, and she hadn't pulled the covers over him, so his legs had been exposed the entire time. His left leg was pockmarked with bruises, just a bit larger than her own fist, but not shaped quite the same as a fist. She tried running the shape and size to what might've appeared on her over the years, but didn't recall this specifically. Again, when she began to focus too intently on the marks, she imagined receiving them herself. She quickly looked away.

His right leg was in obviously worse condition. His whole upper thigh must've been smashed by a metal beam, or a car, or _something_ big if the bruise looked so singular. Either that, or someone had beaten this one part of him so thoroughly, so meticulously, it only _looked_ like a single blow. For Percy's sake, she hoped it was only the first. If this was somehow the second, she didn't want to ever meet whoever had been on the distributing end of these bruises, this pain.

How had Percy even _stood up_ after this? How could he have walked away from this? These… Annabeth's bruises were child's play compared to this. How had Percy _not_ been seen? Had no one seen him limp his way to his car? Had no one questioned his bruised face? His split lip? The bruises and cuts and _blood?_

Had no one cared?

Annabeth gently set to work, trying desperately to find out how much damage had been done. Was it all just bruising, or something more? Broken bones? Infected cuts (there were dozens of cuts on both of his legs)? What about his swollen ankle? She'd already given Percy ice for it an hour before, but she'd determined it a (very lucky) sprain. She double checked it, this time wrapping a cold pack against it with another roll of gauze.

Percy would gasp when she would touch him, whether a bruise marred the skin or not. She could _see_ his distress in the way his hands trembled, gripping the sheets at his sides. The way he'd propped his head up in an attempt to see her as she worked. But mostly, it was his eyes. It was the way they shifted uncertainly towards wherever he might feel the most unsafe. The closet, the bedroom door, Annabeth… He looked terrified.

That probably unnerved Annabeth more than anything. He'd never looked _terrified_ before. Maybe a little flustered, or somewhat scared. Everyone felt scared from time to time, and Annabeth could dismiss that. But Percy Jackson… Terrified?

Annabeth never wanted to meet whatever made Percy feel like he should be watching the doors. Whatever made him fear _her._

She busied herself by jabbing a rag with rubbing alcohol, trying to evenly distribute the disinfectant. She'd have to be careful cleaning his legs, but there was no doubt in her mind it was going to hurt no matter what she did. She glanced up, meeting his eyes for a few moments and holding his gaze. She looked down afterwards, but still couldn't get the image of him bleeding out in some random alley out of her head. "This is going to sting for a few minutes, okay?" She said, waiting to hear some form of confirmation. Or for him to back out.

When he didn't speak, she risked another glance. He was holding his lower lip in his mouth, probably making his split lip worse. Or maybe he was trying to focus on that pain instead of the one he was about to feel. He caught her eye. "Okay?" She repeated, almost hoping he'd say no. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to hurt him.

He nodded. She began to clean his scrapes.

He didn't scream. He didn't shake or tremble, either. Instead, Percy threw his head back into the pillow and began to breath sharply through his nose as she steadied his legs. She wiped each cut carefully, but even she winced when his legs began to twitch. He gasped when the rag passed by a large bruise, but otherwise gave no direct indication he was in pain. Annabeth, however, could just tell.

When she'd finished, Annabeth nodded to herself and set the rag beside the other on her nightstand. Percy let out a breath that he must've been holding, and Annabeth could see his chest rising and falling in relief. "It's done." She whispered, and he nodded, not able to form any words. His hands still griped the sheets with immense force.

She still kneeled at his side, her own hands pinching the covers beside her and her own upper lip between her teeth. Had she taken that from him, or has he taken that from her? Annabeth couldn't recall ever biting her upper lip before meeting him. Before that meeting in the hallway, months ago. He steadily began to relax, though his hands didn't let go of the sheets. He began to move the material around his palms, more leisurely than forced. Annabeth felt herself calm for some reason as well, as if it affected her.

When she realized ten minutes had gone by and she'd only been staring at his hands, she blushed and began to stand. She was about to move out of the room to maybe refill his cup, but the idea of leaving him alone in a room for another hour or two didn't sit well with her. Still, she needed some time to process this. To _think_ and understand what was going on. What this meant for her.

"Wait." His raspy voice followed after her, and she couldn't possibly say walk a step further. She froze in place, heart thumping in her chest. She took a deep, reassuring breath before turning to meet his gaze.

Even though he was forced into a bed, and severely beaten at some point hours ago, Percy still somehow managed to appear confident yet again. He sat up in bed, over the covers, teeth gritted together in pain, and somehow he wasn't breaking down. He'd been _tortured,_ for goodness sake. He was allowed to cry, to feel, to _react_ to this situation. Annabeth wouldn't have thought any less of him. She wouldn't have made him go through the pain alone.

But at his single word, Annabeth heard the underlying desperation. She saw his distress from before, clearly reflected over his face. His hands still gripped the blankets at his sides, but she noticed the shaking. She noticed the fear. She began to shift closer, only half a foot length at a time. Percy kept eye contact with her the whole time. "Percy, I need you to rest, okay? Just a few hours until Grover and Juniper get back-"

"I owe you answers." He said, clearing his throat as he spoke. Normally Annabeth would've hated that sound, but the words he'd spoken blotted out any ambient noise. He saw that he had her hooked. He began to reel in. "And I told you that we could talk. So let's talk." He said.

"You've been stabbed." She deadpanned, completely confused with this boy. It was like trying to play minesweeper without any numbers whatsoever. She had to click and hope she doesn't explode around Percy, and he always kept her on his toes. "And I've already waited this long. I can wait longer." She said. Still, she was moving closer to the bed. Closer to him.

"And I was an idiot for thinking I could keep you waiting forever." He said, shifting in his seat to find a better, more comfortable position. Still, his gaze never left hers. "I want to talk. I just figured you'd want to listen." He said. Annabeth shook her head in exasperation.

"Of all the times to talk about this, you chose to answer my biggest questions with a hole in your side. When you should be resting." She said, disbelieving. "What is wrong with you?" She asked, legitimately concerned.

For some reason, that only made Percy smile. And that one gesture was enough to send a swarm of butterflies into her stomach. She hadn't seen that smile in a long, long time. She'd missed it, oddly enough. "It's because of the drugs." He jested, still smiling. "Hurry and ask your questions before they wear off."

Annabeth crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, though the butterflies continued to keep her feeling off-balance. "Har har. Seriously, you need sleep." She ordered. Now, she stood right beside him. He had to look up to meet her eyes. "I won't let you talk until you've gotten at least ten hours of sleep."

Percy's smile hadn't fallen, per say. It simply lowered until it was just his lips upturned, but still there. That mattered to Annabeth. She _liked_ it there. "You said it yourself; I've been stabbed. I'm in pain, even. How am I supposed to sleep when it still hurts?"

Annabeth went to rebut his question, but ended up shutting her mouth again. She understood. She'd felt the desire to sleep, but still been kept up by the fact her father was in the next room over. She saw the way Percy's hands still shook, and realized what was on his mind. Percy was still scared. Percy didn't want to be left alone while he tried to recover. He didn't want her to leave.

"We can talk about whatever you want, Annabeth." He promised, his eyes slightly dull. Was that the drugs, or would he have offered answers anyways? He'd used this before, on their walk together. " _Whatever you want."_ It was a big promise. Did he mean it now?

"I shouldn't get answers from you while you're drugged, Percy. That doesn't count as consensual-"

"I am perfectly sober, and can swear on my honor that I want to give you these answers." He said. "Please, Annabeth?"

Annabeth gulped, suddenly feeling much less brave than she had an hour ago. She'd spoken out of frustration, and out of pent-up anger at the situation she'd been placed in. At the fact Percy got to know all the answers, and she was left wandering around with dulled senses. She _hated_ not knowing things. She wanted to be in the loop.

She didn't understand, and she doesn't understand now. All she knows is Percy's suffering. He's hurt because of the answers she's seeking. Did she really want them now?

Annabeth looked at the bandages. She looked over the bruises and the cuts. The sprained ankle and the black eye. She took a deep breath, and she knew. She still needed to know. She needed to know why, for _his_ sake.

"Scoot over." She muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed. Percy nodded, moving and shifting until his far hand was against the wall. This wasn't a queen size bed, like the one she had in her old home. This was a twin mattress, just big enough that a person could fit. It wasn't _built_ for two.

But Annabeth's small frame pressed against his larger build. Her shoulder pressed against his as she sat up beside him. She was lucky that she'd raided the closets for all the pillows she could find, because sitting up wasn't uncomfortable. It was more like they were leaning against… Well, a wall of pillows. Her bare feet pressed against the metal bed frame at the end of the bed.

Besides their shoulders, the only thing pressing against Percy was her abdomen, and there was no stopping that. At first, lying down, she had been embarrassed. The butterflies had returned immediately. She minimized the contact between their legs, though. She crossed hers, avoiding from pressing up against his bruises. Suffice to say, they fit.

Then there was silence.

Annabeth wouldn't say the tension was building, or anything of the sort. It just wasn't comfortable, either. Nothing filled the gap, and Annabeth ended up casting glances at him from the corner of her eye. He wasn't looking, which was an open invite to stare. His hands wrung together, as if he were nervous.

And of course he was nervous. Annabeth understood, whatever his mysterious past held wasn't innocent. It wasn't easy.

Annabeth would try to relate.

"I never knew my dad." Percy began, licking his lips immediately after the statement. "I wasn't sure I _wanted_ to know him, you know? For the longest time, it was just mom and me, and then Gabe, and by then… The idea of a dad just felt spoiled, I guess. Gabe had spoiled it for me. And mom never complained about having a guy, before Gabe. She was as fine as I was with us staying 'us'." He began. "I thought it would stay that way forever." He admitted.

Annabeth saw his brows scrunch together in confusion. His hands stilled momentarily, as if he was trying to find the right words to say next. Annabeth waited intently. This hadn't started the way she'd expected. "So when mom said she was getting married to this guy, I thought she was joking. It had always been us, and I thought she'd be okay with that. She told me to give it a chance, and… I did." He said. He met her eyes briefly before looking away. "I shouldn't have.

"I already told you about the beatings, and about him being a cop. I used to like cops, before him. And even he wasn't as bad at first. A bit loud, a bit rude, but… He was the first dad I had. I didn't know how else they might act. I thought mom was happy, so I didn't say anything." He said. Annabeth could hear the annoyance dripping into his words. He'd stopped ringing his hands, and instead they rested against his stomach, clenched. "But then he started hosting poker.

"He'd get all his cop buddies together, and they'd go all day in the living room. I wasn't even allowed in the apartment while they played. Gabe harassed me for money, and I'd give it. I thought that if he didn't take money from me, he'd take it from mom, and that… That wasn't okay with me." Percy said.

"You really cared about your mom, didn't you?" Annabeth suddenly blurted, and she immediately felt like an idiot. Her cheeks felt warm when he looked over at her. There faces were inches apart, and she could see the weariness under his eyes.

"She was my best friend." He said, looking back down at his clenched fists. "It hurt, watching her go out for more than fifteen hours a day, trying to pay for us to live in a crappy apartment. And it wasn't like Gabe's paycheck went anywhere but the poker table. She was supporting all of us, trying to send me to all these preppy schools and stuff. I'd raise Hell, just so they'd send me home for a week or two. Just to check up on her.

"But the biggest problem was the gambling." Percy said, his voice becoming a surprisingly neutral tone. His jaw set, and Annabeth saw his split knuckle stretching, as if he were testing it. Feeling the pain and using it to focus. "He wasn't even a _good_ poker player. He bet high and tried to double whatever money he had, but all he did was dig himself a hole. He dug _us_ into a hole." Percy said resentfully.

"I was twelve, my mom had just died, and I was thrown in a youth shelter in South Harlem faster than I could blink. My social worker kept saying he'd find me a home, but I knew he wasn't counting on it. After all, no one in their right minds wants a juvenile delinquent in their home. With their wife, there _real_ kids." Percy didn't sound bitter, or cold. He sounded depressed. Hollow. "So I just figured I'd try my best, for _her._

"Then these guys follow me back to the shelter, and I knew I recognized them from somewhere. Two weeks later, they confront me outside my _middle school,_ demanding money that Gabe owed them. I told them I didn't have any, but they… convinced me I was old enough for a job." He said. "I was twelve, and struggling to pay money to these guys, and more debts just kept popping up. Cops, like Ty and Pete, but others, too. They carried guns.

"I was seriously considering running, or… I wasn't making enough. I doubted I'd ever _have_ enough. Gabe owed way too much." Percy said, distressed. He ran a hand through his hair before setting it back down. Annabeth could feel his anxiety building. "I had these two roommates, both in highschool, and they saw the money. They heard the story, and… They offered me a job."

Annabeth didn't like the way Percy said 'job'. His eyes darkened as he spoke, and he seemed to be drifting back, reliving the events. "I was young, and stupid, and I took the job. There was just so much money, and all I had to do was check around a few neighborhoods for cops. It seemed easy, and my boss kinda liked me, so it seemed right. I was able to pay debts faster, and for just a minute I felt hopeful.

"My boss was shot by a customer. Those high school boys ran and I never saw them again. The next week, I'm visited by this guy in a suit, and he can't be older than eighteen himself. He pulls me aside, tells me I need to 'step up'. That I needed to be a man. I was fourteen." Percy said. Annabeth felt her breath hitching in her throat. She knew what direction this was going. But she had to be wrong, right? There was no way… No way at all.

"H-he gave me a gun. He gave me an address and I had to pick up whatever he told me to. I had to sell. I had to _deal_ , and if I didn't deal enough, he was going to kill me." Percy said. His voice had gone hollow again. His eyes were emotionless. Annabeth couldn't form any words to comfort, or justify. She wasn't certain she could. "The people I sold to, and the money I made… it was like I was being paid for assisted suicide. I had to watch others throw their lives away, and I had to smile or else I'd be replaced. Every cent I made was blood money. I couldn't give it away fast enough."

Annabeth's screamed accusations burned behind her eyes. She'd called him an insult that meant more to him than it could ever mean to her. She'd dragged this to the surface, and it obviously hurt him to say it. Tears of shame began to brim at her eyes. "Percy-" she began, but her voice was thick and small. He continued as if he hadn't heard her. Maybe he hadn't.

"I was fifteen, and I was getting ready to... _run_ again. My boss was demanding more and more, and I couldn't get it all. I was already waiting for a bullet, so I waited. I waited for whatever end was waiting for me." He said. Annabeth wasn't even sure if he would be able to hear her if she asked him to stop. She reached out and grabbed his conjoined hands, but he acted like he hadn't felt it. That he couldn't feel.

"And then my foster dad appears out of nowhere, and I thought I was back in that 'joke'. But no, I was moved across Manhattan and put in a new home and far from the drugs and far from the debt collectors- and I was beyond paranoid. I tried to get sent back, because maybe then I might be able to work back into some good graces." Percy said.

"Percy, it's okay if you want to stop." She suggested. He continued.

"Things cooled down. My foster dad wasn't so bad suddenly. I thought I could move on. I thought I could breathe again." He said. Annabeth wasn't fooled by this happy moment in the story. She knew a tragedy when she heard one. "I was driving home from this meeting in school- I don't even remember what it was for -and I got T-boned by a semi." He said.

"The lead Doctor in my surgeries was Andrew Pollo. _That's_ how I know him. But he was just the first." He said. _The first._ What could that mean? "He and I talked, about family and stuff, and I thought it was just small talk- but he _knew_ , Annabeth." He addressed her for the first time, looking at her. His hands shook under her own. His eyes were dull and colorless. "About mom, about Gabe, the debt, _the drugs-_ I was so scared. I thought he was there to kill me."

Percy stopped talking, but he kept his gaze leveled at her. Annabeth knew what he wanted. Knew what he needed now. He'd started, and he needed to finish. Annabeth had to let him finish. "But he wasn't. He wasn't going to hurt you." She whispered. Percy nodded, but even that action seemed bland.

"Recovery took months, and I didn't see him again for a while. I was discharged, sent home, and prescribed bed rest for another two weeks." He said. "My foster dad had work, and this guy just _walks in-_ I was certain, again, that I was about to die.

"But this man, claiming to be from the insurance company, tells me how sorry he is about my loss, and he _knew everything._ He knew as much as Andrew, and he talked about my mom, and-" Percy had to take a deep, shaky breath. Annabeth wrapped her arms around his chest, above the wound, and pulled herself as close to him as possible. She dragged him from his sitting position until he was flat on his back.

"You don't have to finish. I know what you're going to say." She said.

"Ten Million dollars." Percy whispered. "He hand delivered the check personally, and he apologized. He apologized because-" now Percy choked. Annabeth held tighter to him. "-because he was my dad, and his son, my _brother in law,_ tried to have me killed. And mom had married a cop to get away from him, and _he was the reason she's dead!"_ He whispered. His whole body shook with untempered rage, and Annabeth couldn't think of how to quell it.

"It's not your fault-"

"She left money." Percy said. "She left my dad because of _me._ She could've been rich, but it was all blood money to her. She _died_ because of me." He said, and his right fist connected with the wall beside the bed. He only grit his teeth, but Annabeth saw dozens of emotions flying through Percy. She tried to hold him together, before they ripped him apart.

Annabeth regretted ever asking.

* * *

 **Read, Review, Favorite, and Follow!**

 **-LHG :)**


	10. Eighteen Weeks

**Hey Guys. It's been a while, but I'm back. If you want a full explanation, my other story, _Heroes & Ghosts, _has it there at the beginning of chapter 42. Sorry I've been gone for so long, really. I'll be updating a bit more regularly now, I hope.**

 **Disclaimer: I am still not Rick.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

 _(Eighteen Weeks)_

"Alright, who wants to see the baby first?"

Annabeth shifted in her position, anxious. She was gripping the sides of the reclining examination chair in an attempt to move, but she couldn't be sure which way. If she were to move upwards even an inch, Doctor Pollo would probably assume she wanted to see the ultrasound screen. If she moved down, sinking further into her seat… Well, Percy would understand. Percy would always understand.

So she kept her vice like grip steady, not even volunteering to move a single inch.

They'd had an option to take home an ultrasound photo after their first visit, but Percy had optioned against it. At the time, Annabeth had been relieved. It's not that she _didn't_ want a photo- although apprehensive, she was still excited -it was the fact that the risk of taking it was too great, in her mind. Fear of her parents finding it, fear of her losing it… She just couldn't take that kind of risk. And if Percy had asked for one, she would've been uncomfortable.

The Doppler tool sliding against her stomach was familiar, but still just as uncomfortable when compared to the first time they'd visited. It felt so much less comfortable, less human, when she compared it to anything else that could be touching her. Doctor Pollo was careful, but if he passed over a place her dad had hit her and a memory sparked… It wasn't comfortable. It was suffocating and claustrophobic.

Which was why Percy now sat beside her, letting her squeeze his hand in reassurance when he noticed her discomfort. Last time, he'd sat far across the room, observing silently and asking questions when he saw fit. Now, Annabeth could see the eagerness in his expression, though he tried to keep it hidden, as he looked at the ultrasound screen in excitement.

Annabeth wasn't looking at the screen. She wanted to see his expression first.

Whatever he was seeing left a strange glimmer in his eyes she knew was only for whatever tiny form in black and white sat on the screen. The way his breath simply left him in a single puff, leaving him breathless. The way he squeezed her hand and kept the pressure soft at the same time. Annabeth watched his upturned lips stretch into a lopsided smile, and how his eyebrows quirked upwards only to fall back down again a millisecond later.

She liked the way he smiled more. She liked the way he sometimes managed to make _her_ smile. Most importantly, she wanted to keep that smile there for as long as she could. It was the least she could do.

"She's beautiful." Percy whispered under his breath. He tore his eyes away from the screen to look down at her, still smiling. He captured his lower lip between his teeth in excitement. His hand squeezed hers again. "She's beautiful." He repeated, this time loud enough for Doctor Pollo to hear him. He nodded, but kept silent.

Annabeth tore her eyes away from him, making the short, few inches upwards until she could see the screen. Black and white, static and light. She felt like she was staring at an abstract painting, but the art form was finally making sense to her. The movements felt like paint strokes and she could believe this was a work of art. This was _her_ work of art.

She squeezed Percy's hand again, smiling. _Their_ work of art.

"She is." Annabeth breathed, feeling Doctor Pollo move the Doppler to find a better angle. She watched the image as it caught a different side, flashing dull shades of grey and white that never appeared to be so vibrant. If she looked closely for a few seconds, and really focused on what she was looking at, she could see a face. A nose, a head, a few fingers… Annabeth could see it all.

"I can't actually seem to find the sex quite yet, but if the baby manages to shift a little bit more to the- ahh!" Doctor Pollo said, stopping his movements. The Doppler rested just a few inches above Annabeth's belly button, and a fraction of a hair's length to the left. The gel he had spread over her stomach gleamed under the fluorescent lights. "Okay, I think I've found the right angle here. Do you want to know what the baby is, or keep it a surprise?" He asked, addressing the two of them.

Annabeth glanced up at Percy, and he quickly met her eye. The both bit their bottom lips simultaneously, a habit they had yet to discover the origin of. Finally, it was Percy who nodded, his verdict being final. "We'll figure it out on our own, thanks Andrew." Percy said, clutching her hand close he his chest. Annabeth gave it a slight squeeze, signaling her approval.

"Sounds good to me. Do either of you have any questions, or want to go over any of the technical stuff again? There's an app for a portable Doppler, if you're interested-" he began, moving his own Doppler around her stomach still. The Doctor's eyes never left the screen, probing and prodding for whatever he could find. Anxiety had set in at the beginning of the procedure, and now Annabeth found it lurking in the corners of her mind, waiting for some sort of ailment to be announced. To hear that the baby wasn't healthy.

"No, but thanks for the offer. I think we'll be fine." Percy said, still addressing his cousin while looking at her. Annabeth smiled slightly again, enjoying his smile. "We've already taken a guess, and I think we're both willing to wait it out until the end." He said, and she couldn't agree more.

Andrew nodded, removing the Doppler from Annabeth's stomach. With the cold, metal device gone, she began to breath a little easier. Sadly, the screen above became blank, leaving the outline of their baby gone. Annabeth rested her hand over her ever-expanding gut, her soft smile lighting up her features before disappearing again. She didn't like the Doctor that much. Not even because of anything serious, like the criminal connections he must've had. She could overlook the apparent relation he had with Percy, even. But the fact he had _known_ Percy, during… Annabeth found herself unwilling to smile around him.

"Well, the baby seems to be doing well, though there isn't much I could diagnose with only an ultrasound to go by. I recommend a third ultrasound, but it isn't necessary." Andrew said, his own smile wide. He'd seemed ecstatic when they'd come in today, more excited than their first visit. At first, she had been convinced he was up to something, or perhaps trying to hide behind the emotion, but Percy had been quite certain it was nothing, and he had held back the same excitement before for her sake. As his cousin spoke, his second hand traveled over to her shoulder. She tried to pretend the Doctor didn't bother her.

"I'm certain we'll be fine without one. But if something happens, you'll be the first to know." Percy said, letting go of Annabeth as they began making their way towards Andrew's desk. Paperwork of some kind, or maybe instructions. Annabeth, normally the one to listen to the advice offered, was currently on 'probation'. Percy said she could listen, of course, but he wrote everything down. Her memory had failed her for the last three nights when she'd misplaced keys, Percy's phone, and turned an entire load of laundry a bright shade of pink. Juniper's work shirt included.

Annabeth was quick to agree that Percy could handle these appointments, even if she didn't want to admit that her 'Pregnancy Brain' was getting the better of her. While Percy and Andrew discussed particulars, Annabeth wiped the gel from her stomach and put her shirt back over her belly. She felt herself breath just the slightest bit easier because of it as well, to which she knew was because no one was staring at her stomach now. Honestly, it was as if she was in a zoo some days, being stared at like an animal. She didn't go out often, but the few times since she always received a handful of judge mental looks.

But she didn't feel bad. She didn't regret her decision.

Percy walked over to her, the hint of a smile playing at his lips as he approached her. She sat one of the five different chairs Andrew had scattered around his office, trying to put her sneakers back onto her feet. She would've been wearing flats, or sandals even, but nothing _fit._ Percy had to loan her some of his old sneakers, and it was still a bit snug. Her stomach, however, was _not_ too big to impede her actions. Even as he started to lower himself into one knee, Annabeth quickly bent over herself, reaching for the laces. "I can tie my own shoes, Percy." She said, lacing up.

"Technically, these are actually _my_ shoes." He began, still on one knee. Annabeth could see him grimacing a little. She could see his hand gripping his knee cap a little tighter than he needed to. His stab wound had been healing nicely, she'd noticed, but the flesh was still tender. The pain was still there. So, at his words, instead of smacking the top of his head she ran her fingers through his hair aggressively, tugging his head around like a doll's. "Hey!"

Annabeth gave him a mischievous grin in return, finishing with tying _her_ shoes and standing up. Percy stood with her, still having a few inches on her. She wondered though, briefly, if it had just been her imagination, or hunched posture that made him seem so tall. Perhaps his reputation, and the way he held himself affected her view. Either way, the truth was this: Annabeth's eyes were level with the bridge of his nose, not his chin. It made her feel pleased. "They _were_ your shoes. And now your pregnant girlfriend wears them because nothing else fits." She said, crossing her arms.

Percy used to cringe when she brought up the word 'pregnant'. He used to look sorry, and sad. Only later did Annabeth realize he wasn't sorry or sad for _himself_ \- he was sad for her. Sorry for _her._ He'd felt bad before. Now, Percy simply raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms to match her. His eyes went down to her feet, then flicked back to her eyes. " _Someone_ could've told me before I went to the store two days ago." He said. Guilt-tripping was not working anymore, clearly.

She raised her chin. "You were _grocery_ shopping. And even then, you forgot half of the things Juniper and I put on the list." She said, which was entirely true. She should've gone with him. Percy Jackson wasn't good at shopping. "Besides, I hadn't known then."

He lowered his chin slightly, matching her gaze. His lips quirked upwards, but quickly dropped again. She noticed. "I could've stopped by a Target, or something. And you guys should've known I can't read cursive!" He argued.

"That doesn't change the fact I didn't know at the time." She said.

"You stopped wearing your flats around the house like, four days ago. Was it _not_ because of them not fitting?" He asked.

Annabeth reluctantly added a tally mark to the internal score she kept when in regards to his skill of perception. She _had_ stopped wearing her flats four days ago. Had he really noticed something as small of detail as that? "Maybe I just wanted to be barefoot." She said, still not giving up. She kind of, maybe, enjoyed the banter. It was easy to match wits like this with Percy.

"You never did that before." He said, arms still crossed. He appeared unconvinced.

' _Not since I ran outside of my parents house, and got my feet cut up.'_ She thought. She wondered if he'd made that connection as well. "I've been reading that pregnancy causes a lot of changes in personality." She replied easily, taking a step closer. "Bare feet inside isn't weird." She countered.

"But you always walk around wearing shoes. Or slippers, even." He countered, not backing up. He raised a hand in mild exasperation, making the movement look more like a fluttering of the hand. "And _socks._ I swear, I find more of your socks scattered around the apartment than I'd ever be able to find in my own room."

Annabeth felt her face flush, knowing full well that he was right. She had a nasty habit of changing her socks at least three or four times a day on average. And she sometimes left them in more places than just her room. Still, she continued. "Haven't ever seen your room. How am I supposed to know how bad it looks?" She said. He took a minuscule step forward, and their crossed arms brushed.

She thought she had him trapped between retracting his statement of a messy room and having to embarrass himself into admitting it, but she was cut off by Andrew, who now stood beside them. His bright eyes observed their small smiles they kept hidden from each other. "You two are adorable." He said, handing Percy a few papers. Annabeth couldn't make out what was on them. "But sadly, Percy is the messiest person in the city. I'm not entirely sure how he escapes his blankets each morning." The doctor commented, already walking back towards his desk.

Percy scowled, but red tinted his cheeks and the tips of his ears turned a light shade of pink. When the doctor was back in his chair, scribbling away at whatever papers he had scattered across his desk, Percy silently cursed his cousin. Annabeth, for her part, smirked up at him. She liked messing with Percy.

Still, messing with him could be done from anywhere, not just a doctor's office masquerading as an office building. Annabeth tugged on Percy's sleeve a little, cutting off the glare he was giving his cousin. "C'mon. Let's go back to Grover's." She said. "It's getting late."

Percy nodded, looking back towards his cousin one last time. "Be a stranger, Andrew. Forget you saw us." He said casually. Annabeth rolled her eyes at his antics, already moving towards the door. Her sweatshirt (one of Percy's, actually) hung lopsided on an honest to goodness coat rack, and she quickly threw it over her head. She just barely got a whiff of sea salt as the fabric settled on her shoulders.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Last I heard, Percy Jackson doesn't have enough game to even _talk_ to a girl." His cousin replied, not even looking up at the two of them. Percy already stood beside her, putting on a thin jacket. He barely even rolled his eyes when he heard his cousin retort. Instead, he opened the door for her and gently placed a hand on her back as they made their way into the hallway.

"He's such a dork sometimes." Percy said quietly to her as they began walking towards the elevator. She'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts the first time she'd been here, but now, with Percy and her on better terms, it was kind of… Adventurous. Exciting, being so secretive. It had it's own brand of stress that came with it, yeah, but she wasn't alone.

Their fingers brushed as they walked, and she wondered who would take the other's hand first. "He seems… Nice, I guess. I'm feel like I'm seeing him in a new light." She admitted casually, her voice coming out a bit quieter in the empty hallway. They reached the elevator, and like the children they were both went to press the button. Annabeth was faster, but Percy kept her finger trapped under his own.

"How so?" He asked, releasing her hand after she sent him a playful glare. The elevator opened for them, and Percy carefully ushered her into the compartment. When they were both in, he went to press the button for the first floor. She quickly trapped his hand under her own. He only smiled, and she began fitting her fingers between his. His hand was bigger than hers, and he could've easily moved away, but he didn't. He waited silently for her to speak.

"I just didn't really know how you knew him, I guess. And I didn't really trust him too much." She replied, removing her fingers from his when the doors opened. The both put their hands down, but Percy's pinky finger wrapped around her own. She'd count it as hand holding, she guessed.

Before they could pass by the vending machines, Percy gently tugged on her hand. "Wait just a second." He said, pulling out his wallet with his left hand. Or, trying to (Annabeth pretend not to notice him wince). His wallet was in his right pocket, and he couldn't quite reach. His right hand was still connected to her left. After a few failed attempts, Annabeth laughed at his antics and proceeded to pull out his wallet from his pocket.

"Okay, what did you want?" She asked, looking over the machine's small selection of candy and chips. There wasn't really anything worth buying, but Percy pointed out something on the bottom row. Annabeth wordlessly put a dollar in the machine and punched in the correct number sequence. With the familiar whirl and clanking, Percy's preferred treat fell to the bottom of the machine.

"He's just a bit different, I sup-" Percy _had_ been reaching for his Mentos, but Annabeth snatched it from his hand and effectively cut off what he was saying. She never let her eyes leave his as she removed a mint and popped it in her mouth. His expression was one of hurt, or betrayal, but Annabeth merely rolled her eyes as she put his wallet and gum into his pocket. He could be as dramatic as he wanted to be.

"Excuse me, but those are mine." He said, tugging a bit on her hand with his pinky. She noticed how unbothered he sounded by that statement. "And I don't remember saying you could have one."

Annabeth flaunted her prize, sticking it between her teeth and curling her lips back until he could see it. She snatched it back quickly into her mouth, noticing how his eyes lingered on her lips. He'd been doing that quite often as of late, since her 'slip up' last week. "You didn't say I couldn't, either." She pointed out, walking back towards the doors. Percy, maybe out of habit now, was quick to open the door for her. She was beginning to enjoy the familiar touches he gave to the small of her back, but she wouldn't be telling him that anytime soon.

"I thought it was implied." He said, leading her along quickly. He still was watching the surrounding streets as he did the first time they were there, but in between glances at the street he would smile at her, or tug on her so she could keep up. She huffed, knowing he purposefully went faster than she could handle going. He liked to point it out, considering she was _much_ faster without his _spawn_ growing inside her.

He'd parked them in the same alley way as before, and he helped her in, just like before. The experience now, compared to the first time, was similar. But Annabeth knew that things had changed. Maybe even she had changed, a little bit. There wasn't an awkward silence, there were smiles… And Annabeth _knew._ She at least understood enough that she wasn't in complete darkness.

Andrew was a friend of Percy's father. Percy didn't talk about his father, and it was obvious they weren't close. Percy had criminal connections, and even a criminal past. But Percy Jackson _wasn't_ a criminal.

She knew him well enough to make that call.

So as the car pulled out of the alley and into the street, Percy turned the music down low and popped a Mentos into his own mouth. His hands tapped lightly to the beat of whatever Alternative song he was listening to, but didn't stop talking with her. "You still hungry?" He asked, readjusting his rearview mirror.

Annabeth thought about it. She'd _mentioned_ she was a bit peckish before the appointment, but that had been nearly an hour ago. Still, she checked the clock above the console on his car. She frowned when she saw the time. "It's nearly ten. And we're an hour from Juniper and Grover's. Everything's probably closed by now."

Percy shook his head. "I know a place where we can get some _really_ good burgers, and it's open late." Percy said, driving past the skeletal structures just beyond the window. Annabeth felt her stomach pitch upwards at the mention of burgers, and just the idea of an order of French Fries made her mouth water, but she shook her head.

"I don't want to keep Juniper up. Besides, if you live anywhere close to the school that's another hour-"

"I'm not tired." Percy said, smiling slightly. " _And_ it's on the way. We could order to go and be out of there in ten minutes, at the most." He promised. When she didn't answer right away, Percy started listing off the menu to her in what she guessed was supposed to be a seductive voice. "Burgers, with bacon and mushrooms… You can buy pizza by the slice, and they have the _freshest, juiciest_ olives… The fries are so greasy, you _have_ to lick your fingers with each bite…" Annabeth nearly moaned at his descriptions ( _never_ at his voice, though) and was quickly beginning to realize Percy knew _exactly_ what to say to ignite her appetite. "And the _shakes…_ _Mmmmm_." He said.

Annabeth threw her hands up in the air, exasperated (and now famished). "Fine. But I'm warning you, if I'm disappointed in the food I will personally steal this car and leave you stranded at wherever we're going." She threatened, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Percy's smile simply widened, and his foot pressed down a little further on the gas pedal.

…

Annabeth was a 'place' person.

She wasn't a 'thing' person, considering the fact that she didn't really own much besides books. She kept some mementos of her past, trinkets from her experiences and such. That paper she'd written, the snow globes, maybe a few key chains, and her phone were the only items she'd consider 'past-meaning'. She could live without 'things'. 'Things' we're just memories put into objects that clutter your shelf. Only a few were important.

And she wasn't a 'people' person. She could go most of her life with next to no human interaction whatsoever and be content. Yes, the first three years of high school were fun and all, considering she was always with others, but she was okay in isolation. Her window and stacks of books, that's all she needed.

But 'places' meant something to her. Her _window_ meant something to her. The _Megaplex_ meant something to her. Every single monument she'd visited (and many she'd only seen in books) meant something to her because the could mean something to others as well. She loved the history a building could have. That a _city_ could have. She could look at New York and know she wasn't alone because she had a few million New Yorkers behind her as well, all coexisting as one group.

'Places' _meant_ something.

And when Percy pulled into the most run down, cracked pavement parking lot in front of a black building with neon orange lights wrapping around the front, accenting the lit windows, Annabeth knew Percy _certainly_ didn't come here for kicks and giggles (at least, she assumed so. Percy was hard to read sometimes). When she glanced at his face, his eyes twinkled with excitement. He nearly tripped over himself, getting out and opening the door for Annabeth.

"C'mon!" He said, just a bit too loudly for the still evening. The might've left the main streets behind, but Annabeth doubted that the stillness around them was because of the lack of traffic. He grabbed her hand in his when she got out, gently intertwining their fingers and moving to glue himself to her side. As they began making their way to the doors, Percy swung their hands leisurely, obviously excited. He was a bit quieter when he leaned toward her ear and spoke softly. "So, they might not actually offer to go."

Annabeth gave him a glare that would've made her stepmother seem rusty in parenting. Percy offered her an obviously guilty (but not at all sorry) smile and guided her into the building.

The first thing that hit her: the warmth. It washed over her like a breeze, completely overwhelming and fresh. It was, to her, temperate equilibrium. Just warm enough that she needed to remove her jacket, but not cold enough that she'd put it back on until they left again.

The whole cafe-or maybe it was a diner -was old fashioned, yet unique. Wooden booths along the edges, wrapping around three of the four walls. Dark green leather and dark, ebony wood tables. Each, of course, housed menus, salt, pepper, ketchup, etc.

Memorabilia littered the walls. Hats, t-shirts, autographed photos and instruments. From baseball to rugby, every sport was covered. Neon signs advertising Coca-cola, Car companies, and even a few bands. The carpet was dark green, like the seats, and completely run down. Old, but more… Worn in. There was a bar area, showing what must've been the kitchen. It was a small kitchen, but judging by the only two dozen booths and fifteen bar stools (also green leather), they weren't looking to be busy anytime soon. The soft, warm lighting cast shadows across the walls.

Annabeth had to blink a few times before it all really settled in that a place like this even existed. It had that Hard Rock kind of look to it, old timey with the neon lights, but it felt more… More. Just more. It was one of those 'place' things. This building held history. So much history that she'd be surprised if the original owner was still alive.

"C'mon." Percy encouraged, tugging on her hand and leading her over to an empty booth. His smile was entirely too wide for his face, but it still gave her a swelling sensation in her chest. He looked perfectly content, and she'd bet he'd stay that way even if they were surrounded by police officers. Although, it didn't look like anyone was frequenting this establishment at this hour. When Percy sat them down in a booth below a clock, she immediately checked the time.

"It's ten fifteen, Percy. How long will it take them to make our food?" She asked, looking towards the kitchen. No one even looked like they were behind the counter. Was anyone else even in the building? She'd hoped Grover and Juniper would go to bed before eleven. At this rate, she wouldn't be back at the apartment until midnight. Percy didn't appear all too worried about the time when she brought it up. He quickly handed her a menu.

"I already told you a bit about the burgers, but everything here is beyond five stars. Their fries are really good, and they serve it with this sauce stuff, which is amazing. We could probably get milkshakes for the road." He said, leaning across the booth and pointing things out on her menu, also completely ignoring her question. The font on the menu was big and blocky, perfect for her dyslexia. Percy continued gushing on about the food as he pointed them out. "- this grilled chicken, I mean my _god-"_

Annabeth pulled the menu away from his hands, her stomach starting to grumble a little louder. Percy noticed, smirking slightly when he did and not seeming to care that he had been cut off. To distract her from her appetite, she put the menu down and started pulling her hair into a messy bun. A few curls fell in her face as she did, but she figured that if they constantly fell in her face she could focus on that and not be so hungry. "You're a real big fan of this place, huh?" She guessed.

His neck would probably go loose with how quickly he was nodding. "Mom took me here a lot when I was little, before Gabe. And Grover brought me back years ago, when I met him. Back before Juniper was his girlfriend, and she worked as a waitress here." He said, then pointed behind her, towards the far wall. Annabeth had to bend around to see that the far wall was occupied by a ping pong table and a pool table. Billiards poles lined the walls, along with a dart board and some tally markers.

"Grover accidentally hit her with a billiards ball, trying to show me a trick. I was only fifteen, and he was already in his twenties… She was so angry, threatened to kick us out. And she was _covered_ in greasy food." Percy got a twinkle in his eye, looking back at Annabeth when she turned back to him. "Grover kept saying that she looked like an Angel after that. And later that night, he asked her if she wanted to go on a date with him as an apology."

Annabeth snorted at the thought, rolling her eyes. Percy raised his eyebrows at her, and she elaborated. "If I'm covered in grease, and the boy that got me covered in said grease tried talking to me, I'd probably kill him." She said, shaking her head.

Percy's smile widened. "Oh, she slapped him across the face." He said, and Annabeth's eyes widened. Now _that,_ she could imagine. Percy continued looking over the menu. "She wouldn't even take our orders for a month, but Grover wouldn't stop trying, and she finally agreed to a date with him, and a year later they were married." He finished.

"Wow." Annabeth said, not really sure if anything else needed to be said. Percy didn't seem to think so, either. He just kept looking over the menu, enjoying the soft rock music and quiet, cozy lighting. Annabeth followed his lead, pushing curls away from her face. When a waitress did arrive, she silently took their orders. Percy seemed to know her, and the waitress seemed to know him so Annabeth sat back quietly and waited for their food. Percy continued entertaining her with stories about the diner.

All conversation ceased when their food appeared in front of them. Annabeth's eyes widened when she saw the assortment of delicious delectables on her plate. She'd ordered _medium_ fries, not enough-to-feed-a-pack-of-wolves. And was was the light orange dipping sauce that came them? And her _burger-_ it looked like someone had just plucked it right out of a television commercial. Annabeth's stomach moaned at the sight. She nearly moaned at the _smell._ Baby was approving.

Percy himself didn't touch his burger, or the boneless buffalo wings that went with them. His smile was wide in anticipation, and Annabeth realized with a blush that he was waiting for her to eat first. When she only stared at her food, Percy's smile widened. "I swear, it's better than it looks."

' _Then it's probably ambrosia'_ she thought, picking up her burger. Bacon cheese, completely melted over the beef. She tried not to let any drool slip out when she opened her mouth to take a bite.

And then another.

And then another.

And then a few fries.

And then another bite.

She was almost halfway through with her burger before she realized she must look like a complete slob. That stuff- fry sauce, or something -was addictive. She'd started dunking eat bite of her food into it before realizing she was even doing it. Immediately, a bright Crimson blush colored her cheeks, and she looked past her food to see Percy's face. It was probably less messy.

She almost forgot who she was eating with. Sure, Percy was pretty clean and orderly when eating Grover and Juniper's vegetarian-based meals. Even the New Rome Grill was a pretty civilized place for him. But this place must've been less… Nitty-picky. He was happily shoveling wings into his mouth, ranch and mild sauces dripping down to his chin. Annabeth could _hear_ his moaning and humming, along with a little snorting, in what she guessed was approval.

And when his eyes met hers, _he_ was the one with ears bursting into redness. He swallowed loudly, immediately taking a napkin from the edge of the table and wiping his face down at lightning speeds. He still ate, but slower than before, eyes flickering to her and then back to his food. Annabeth didn't hide her grin when she began eating more of her burger (albeit, slower).

It was a constant struggle keeping herself from humming in approval, at least to her. Percy appeared to be struggling to keep himself from speeding up. She appreciated it, a little bit. It would've been awkward if he'd finished and she was still eating. She would've felt self-conscious and rude. Vice-versa didn't seem to be a problem for Percy, seeing as he ate like a trucker. So they both gave each other knowing, casual glances before digging back into their food. Slower, but never once unappreciative of the fine quality food they ate like pigs.

It was closer to midnight than eleven thirty when they'd finished their food. Although satisfied, Percy insisted on buying them shakes (these ones _were_ to go). The waitress had quietly gathered what little scraps they had left before leaving there table. It was funny how Annabeth almost felt hungry, just looking at the bare table. It looked unnatural and inhumane.

Percy quickly caught her attention. "You know, I'm not like my family, right?"

Annabeth started, eyes widening and posture immediately becoming rigid. She had her hands crushed against the flat, leathery surface of her bench. Percy watched on in silence, taking in her reaction to the question he'd given her to answer. His mouth screwed tight when she saw her sudden apologetic glance that immediately shifted back into casual concern. "Of course I know that." She said.

Percy began scratching at the table top, his fingernails grating against the wood and plastic. He wasn't looking at her when he shrugged, then spoke. "I mean, you were talking about Andrew before we left, and I get he isn't all good-"

Annabeth quickly shushed him, simply by resting her hand over his. He stopped scratching against table. "But he's not all bad, either. I understand that, but I still get that he isn't being funded by the Salvation Army." She said, and he peaked his head up to look her in the eye. She bit her bottom lip. "Look, Percy, I know what it's like being in a family that doesn't feel like one. And Andrew _is_ nice to me, but I just don't like him all that much."

She expected him to be silent, fuming for not liking his cousin. Or maybe he'd be angry because she's trying to compare her family troubles to his. What she did _not_ expect was this horse-like grumbling that came out of his mouth. When he looked up, his eyes were wide. "No, I completely understand. My family kinda _sucks."_ He said, relieved. A giggle escaped her mouth before she could stop it, but immediately became stoic again.

Percy continued. "I mean, I didn't even know any of them before the accident, and they all suddenly popped up, acting so… Cozy with me." He said, shifting uncomfortably. "Andrew is super flirty usually, and I thought I'd have to worry about him flirting with you. But instead he was acting all buddy-buddy… I think that scared me more." He admitted, frowning. His voice kept getting lower the longer he spoke.

Annabeth felt her own voice shrinking. "What do you mean?" She asked, leaning in closer to him. "I thought you two seemed pretty close." She said, remembering how they'd acted the first time they'd gone into the clinic. They'd both been smiling, they'd both been laughing. Percy leaned in as well.

"I don't want to be involved with _any_ of them, but Andrew could help us. If we can help it, I hope we never have to see any of them ever again. Period." He said, voice serious. "If you felt uncomfortable around him, I'm sorry. We're never going back there ever again." He promised, still leaning in closer. Annabeth nodded, liking that idea.

And… It made _sense._ Maybe not the friendly banter and the stupid smiles, but… Percy wouldn't lie. He had no connection with his family. He was cutting ties between himself and Andrew. From all of the danger, and the shadowy, criminal stuff that Annabeth realized she'd been against since the beginning. A weight she hadn't realized she'd been carrying was suddenly lifted off of her chest.

"And… It's just us then? No more of… Whatever Andrew was a part of? We're safe?" She asked, squeezing the hand that rested under hers. She let her own words echo through her mind, spurring on that scene that had entered her mind all those weeks ago. Just her and Percy and unidentified baby against the world. It was as appealing as any other life.

' _And you could still get a Stanford education… Once you convince Percy to move across the country with you.'_

Annabeth ignored her thoughts that spoke from that deep, dark part of her mind. She'd jump that hurdle when she reached it. And, hey, maybe Percy would like a fresh start. California was far enough, she could get a fresh start _and_ her dream school. No parents, no mobsters, and no dark clouds constantly hanging overhead. Just- Freedom.

Percy bit his lower lip. "Yeah. I mean, we're still both fresh outta High School and have no clue what we're doing, but I'm sure-"

Annabeth was already nodding enthusiastically, probably shaking like a chihuahua. Her smile was flickering between 'wild-and-crazy' and 'small-and-humble'. "We'll figure it all out." She said, squeezing his hand again. "Once we get to a problem, we'll solve it."

Percy's smile was huge, and a little crazy, too. He seemed to love her enthusiasm. "I was going to say my foster dad could help, but I like your idea better." He said, and Annabeth had to cover her mouth to keep from giggling uncontrollably.

"Oh." Was all she could say, and Percy grabbed her hand that had been over his, squeezing it reassuringly. He was trying not to laugh loud enough for the waitress to hear, and Annabeth couldn't find it in herself to care how ridiculous they looked, or sounded, because _this was the start of something._

'Something _permanent.'_ A brighter, happier part of her mind sang.

It was at that moment, when she was done thinking that she noticed that they'd both been leaning closer and closer to one another. That she could feel his breath hitting her upper lip and that she had the clearest, most unobstructed view of his eyes that she'd ever had. That just by noticing that _look_ in his eyes she was already feeling breathless. She saw his eyes dip to her lips, just like they'd been doing all night.

She closed the gap, and it was warm and soft and sweet and everything a cliché first over a diner booth kiss should be. And it wasn't like she hadn't kissed anyone else before, or even that she hadn't kissed _Percy_ before, but this was- this was different. Percy hadn't responded when she'd 'slipped up' the week before. He'd just let her kiss him. And the hasty make out they'd first experienced wasn't the same. Those feelings hadn't been real.

But now his lips moved against hers and their eyes closed slowly and Annabeth didn't even care that she hated it when couples kissed in public. She was kissing this boy, and he was kissing her back, and Luke could _suck it_ because he'd never made her feel this way. He'd never been this gentle and caring (and the perfect amount of hesitant) that she could feel like this.

Even pulling away, knowing that those had only been eight seconds at most, Annabeth could still see the way that his eyes wouldn't open past half-lidded. Or how his lips were slightly parted, and that she could still feel his uneven breath against her own smiling lips. Her eyes must've been shining like a million stars, because all Annabeth could see in Percy's was a dimness.

' _You BROKE him!'_ She mentally shouted at herself. Her smile only widened.

She didn't leave him in a disoriented mess for longer than ten seconds. She could see the waitress bring them their shakes out of the corner of her eye, about to distribute the dessert. "Percy." She said, squeezing his hand again as she said his name. He blinked a few times, immediately focusing on her again. She only grabbed the spoon that was offered to her and began to indulge in the ice cream. Percy quickly followed her lead, and it only took him thirty seconds before he could pick up his spoon.

She'd have to practice with him, if he wanted to keep his mind sharper.

* * *

 **Can I quickly say how much effort I put into _just the kiss?_ Like, I knew I was hopeless before, but know?**

 **Read, Review, Favorite, and Follow.**

 **LHG :)**


	11. Nineteen Weeks

**Hey Guys!**

 **Recently, I've been working on some crossover stuff between PJO and various other things I like... Anyone here a fan of _Star Wars_? What about _Batman Arkham Knight?_ I've been putting a lot of time into those stories, as well as _The Marauding Demigods._ I'm hoping to upload another chapter in the next few weeks, but do not quote me on that. Besides that, I've been working hard. **

**Also, I have this treasure hunting AU I was wondering if anyone wanted to hear about... Percy and Annabeth being rival treasure hunters, constantly at one another's throats, but also totally crushing on one another. Mind you, there will be an awesome story attached to that scenario... fights, chases, lost civilizations, etc.**

 **But you probably just wanna read this story, huh? I get it.**

 **Disclaimer: Percy Jackson ,or anything recognizable as 'book lore' isn't mine. Rick is his own man. Mad respect to him.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

 _(Nineteen Weeks)_

"Annabeth."

' _Percy's calling.'_ All that registered beyond the foggy, disorienting veil of sleep was that his voice was slowly tugging her back into consciousness. Of course, she resisted it. Her legs were still pulled up and onto the seat, her head rested against the cold glass of the window, and her arms were crossed protectively in front of her. She was _comfortable._ No one wants to wake up when they're comfortable.

So, yeah, she tightened her arms, pressed her face further against the glass, and tucked her shoeless feet further under herself. It didn't help that Percy's heater was lightly blowing across her lap, filling her body with warmth. Better still, her thin jacket had been replaced by Percy's thicker, warmer jacket. He'd given it to her when they'd left the diner.

"Annabeth." He repeated, and Annabeth could hear his voice much clearer. Little details began to make themselves known, like the smell of sea salt and chocolate. Like the gently humming of the engine, and the sound of tires on road. The passing streetlights casting shadows when they went by.

"Annabeth!" Percy whispered urgently, and now Annabeth knew something was wrong. She felt warmth spreading across her elbow, and against her better judgement she untucked her legs and uncrossed her arms, sitting up. She had to push those few annoying strands of hair out of her face, all the while waiting for her vision to focus.

"Percy?" She asked, blinking away the sleepiness she felt. They weren't on the Freeway anymore, instead driving on a street she didn't recognize. The streetlights were an orange glow a opposed to the Freeway's bright, glaring white beams that lit the road. Instead, Annabeth couldn't make out shapes beyond the shadows in between each light. She was instantly on alert. "Percy, what's wrong?"

Percy was looking directly at the road ahead, his face stern and jaw tight. She felt her breath catch in her throat when she saw the fire burning in his eyes. She'd never seen him look so… Not angry, or frustrated. His hands were gripped tightly to the wheel, knuckles white and ghostly. The car wasn't going fast, but she was pretty sure she saw a stop sign pass by in her peripherals. Percy didn't stop.

His eyes flickered mechanically between mirrors, then to her, then back to the mirrors. His set jaw slowly peeled back into a small scowl. "We're being followed." He said, taking a right and moving along at a reasonable pace. Annabeth felt her throat clenching up. Percy kept checking the mirror beyond her shoulder. With his left hand, he jerked his thumb back.

Annabeth struggled against her seatbelt as she looked to where Percy had pointed. His rear window was tinted, but the headlights turning the same corner they had a moment ago lit the buildings around them. Percy once again put both hands on the wheel, focus completely on either the road in front of him, or behind him. "How long have they been following us?" She whispered. She couldn't speak loudly.

Percy was approaching another turn, signaling right. But as he approached the stop sign, his wrists flicked left instead, not bothering to stop again. Usually, Annabeth would reprimand him for such idiotic disregard for safety. But at nearly one in the morning, no one was out anyways and she trusted Percy was doing this all on purpose. "I noticed them on the freeway fifteen minutes ago. Three of them." He whispered back.

"Who are they?" She asked, hands grasping the middle console between herself and him. She was still looking behind them, towards the pair of headlights. She could only see one, but that didn't mean two more weren't lurking somewhere. "Why are we driving through this neighborhood?"

Another mislead. Percy signaled left, but went straight instead. Annabeth wasn't sure what he was doing yet. His engine revved, and it was a wonder why no lights seemed to be turning on. A loud car at one in the morning? Most neighborhoods would be in an uproar. Percy suddenly cursed, and Annabeth turned forward to see another pair of headlights at the front of the street. Percy made a hard left, going between a side street and onto another road.

"They aren't police. The cars all have custom paint and parts." He said, quickly making a sharp left and gunning it down the road. He alternated his turn signals wildly, then hit the emergency button at the front of the console. His lights began to blink. When he reached the end of the road, he quickly tore left and didn't stop until he was back where they'd started.

"We just went in a circle." She said, feeling nervous. Percy grunted, but kept going. Annabeth saw a flash of lights between two houses, then it was gone. Percy turned his headlights off, coasting down the street. Annabeth realized that she couldn't see the streetlights anymore. She was feeling even more on edge. At the end of the street, she saw more headlights, but they passed by without stopping. Percy put the lights back on after they'd passed. "What're you doing?" She asked again.

Percy was quiet, keeping his eyes planted ahead. He seemed to be inspecting each street, looking for something in particular. Annabeth didn't know what, but she was feeling edgy. A theory began forming in her head, taking shape. "Do you think Andrew…"

Percy shook his head. "He has nothing to gain, coming after us. It's not his style." He said, not taking his eyes off the various street signs. "And he doesn't have anyone with custom cars. He doesn't get his hands dirty like this." Percy said, both assuring Annabeth and making her nerves skyrocket. If it had been Andrew, they would've at least had a face. A name. They would _know._ She hated not knowing.

Unless…

Annabeth caught herself staring directly at Percy, analyzing him. His scowl, his scrunched eyebrows, his tense posture. She knew the emotion that was causing this, and it wasn't blind. Percy was afraid. _Scared._ And it wasn't fear of the unknown. It wasn't scared in the sense that he didn't know _what_ he was scared _of._ This was personal. This was experienced. Annabeth felt this every time her father was home.

"Who's following us?" She asked, squeezing the leather of the armrest she gripped. She saw Percy's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "You know, don't you? Who is it?" She asked. Percy's left hand let go of the wheel, and he ran his fingers through his hair. It was a nervous habit of his she'd been noticing. When his hair was messed up, his hand hovered towards his side before suddenly gripping the wheel again. Annabeth noticed.

"There the ones who beat you up, aren't they?" She whispered, and she didn't need to hear him swallow the lump in his throat to know she was right. "They're the ones who stabbed you?" Percy didn't answer. He didn't have to.

He continued driving, flashing his lights, his signals, and revving his engine down the dozen or so streets before finally finding what he appeared to be looking for. They'd passed all of the three other cars (none of which looked a day out of the auto shop) before Percy finally grunted in what must've been approval. He stopped the car, kicked the car into reverse, and backed in between two houses. Completely nestled, and hidden, from the street. When he was done, he cut off the engine.

"We're going to have to work quickly." Percy said, reaching into the back of the car. He pulled out something that glinted silver, but it was immediately gone before Annabeth could ask what he had. He looked her in the eye, grabbing her hand. "I need you to be my lookout. If you see _any_ car, you tell me and we'll both hide behind the car, okay?" He asked.

Annabeth didn't know why he was asking, but nodded, determined to help. He quickly opened his door, and Annabeth didn't wait for him to help her out. He pointed to the corner of the wall that lead to the sidewalk, grey and concrete. Percy was right behind her, lips almost touching her ear and hands ghosting over her waist. "And if anyone walks by, grab me. And stay quiet."

She nodded, moving to the edge of the concrete that supported to house it rested on. Her hands grazed over the chipped, graffitied cement. She hadn't realized that the pavement was dipped downwards, so even if someone should look into the alley they might only glimpse the top of the car. And she hadn't realized how much trash littered the cracked, broken roads. It looked like weeds were beginning to sprout from between each crack in the pavement. She couldn't be sure, without any light to go by.

She didn't dare see what Percy was doing. She focused on her part, keeping her head low and watching both ways thoroughly. He was depending on the both of them not being seen or heard, and she wasn't going to risk satisfying her curiosity. These people beat Percy. They'd stabbed him, and maybe he'd been left to die. Annabeth had never asked. She hoped she'd never need to know, but now they were both _here_. They were being hunted.

She silently urged Percy to finish whatever he was doing faster.

She saw two cars, each at opposite ends of the road, but not turning in. They were the only source of light on the street, and she'd immediately ducked when she'd spotted them. They'd passed, and Annabeth guessed that whatever street-sweep they were doing would bring them back soon. She hoped she was wrong.

Percy gently placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her backwards and deeper into the alleyway. Her heartbeat was drumming in her ears, but she allowed him to lead her towards the car. When she allowed herself to turn away from the street, she realized that Percy must've… Well, thought of this. There was a cover over his car, stretching from the trunk all the way hood of the car. It's black fabric seemed to absorb shadow, and light, making it look near invisible. The longer she looked, the less it seemed to exist. She guessed that, with the incline, it might look like nothing was there.

' _Exactly how he probably planned it.'_ She thought as he pulled the cover up carefully, opening the back door and gently nudging her in. She basically had to crawl, but Percy was right behind her, closing the door behind him. The fabric let absolutely no light in, and they were both plunged into darkness. It was almost like a void, sucking up sound as well. Nothing moved, nothing breathed.

"Annabeth?" Percy whispered, his voice piercing through the vacuum. She heard the sound of clothing on leather, and knew that he was moving closer to her. She tried to make him out. Tried to see his face, or his arm, or _any_ of him. She wondered if her eyes would even adjust to this darkness.

"Percy?" She replied, and she tried to keep her whispered word from sounding as scared as she felt. It probably failed. She reached out tentatively, her hands probing the seats until she felt his jeans against the tips of her fingers. He grasped her hand in his, a bit tight but not unwelcome. She squeezed back, scooting closer to him. She felt their legs brush.

His leather jacket was pressed up against his chest when she felt his arm wrapping around her waist. She turned until her head rested against his chest. She'd never really _cuddled_ before, but Percy didn't seem to mind. Maybe it was just the two of them, latching on to one another because the darkness wasn't going to take them if they were together. Maybe he was as scared as she was. She wasn't sure.

What she did know was that his heart was beating loudly and she was pinned between him and the seat and his arm was wrapped so tightly around her waist she wasn't sure if he was trying to morph themselves together or not. She didn't like the dark, but it was different with his face buried in her curls. She could feel every breath huff against her scalp, and each hair on her neck stood on end.

"I don't know how long we'll have to be here." He whispered, almost quieter than she could hear. She closed her eyes, wiggling her toes. She had forgotten that her shoes were still in the passenger seat. Her socks were probably disgusting. She toed off the both of them, shoving them off of the seat and onto the carpet. Her feet skimmed against Percy's, though she couldn't remember him being shoeless.

"Okay." She replied, fiddling with their conjoined fingers that rested on her thigh. Her other hand was trapped between their stomachs, and she lightly pressed her fingers against his left side. Against his wound. Eleven days since, and it had healed nicely. She still caught him scratching at it sometimes, but he always stopped when she scolded him. He shivered, his whole body squirming. Annabeth's fingers twitched in response.

Tires against pavement. Annabeth's shallow breathing became nonexistent when she heard the slow, deliberate movements of rubber and loose gravel moving against one another. She tucked her head against Percy's neck, holding her breath. Percy's hand that was wrapped around her waist moved to her neck. He pressed himself closer, not letting an inch of himself, or her, move as the car got closer.

The rumbling became more apparent with each passing second. It vibrated through the metal skeleton of the car, rolling like a constant clap of thunder. It was a storm passing by, she had to say to herself. ' _Just passing by. Thunder can't hurt us.'_

' _Lightning can, though.'_

Annabeth couldn't let the thoughts of a violent end consume her mind. She couldn't lose her cool now, when they could simply be passing through. Who knew if these people had guns? What if they see the car? What if they start shooting? What if she were hit? What if her _stomach-_

Annabeth felt Percy's lips press firmly to her hair. Warmth and assurance spread through her body. The panic was still there. The complete and absolute terror of the idea of bullets riddling the car. If there bodies being hit-

 _No._ His _body._

Only now did it register. Did she realize how Percy's tall, broad-shouldered build almost kept her smaller, more athletic form completely covered. Shielded. How he kept her pinned between him and the seat, and that even their conjoined hands rested behind Percy's legs. His feet were hooked underneath her heels, and his neck and head were craned around her own.

He was using himself as a shield.

Annabeth swallowed a large lump that had begun forming in the back of her throat. She wasn't religious, by any means at all, but she closed her eyes tightly and squeezed a few tears out as she wordlessly prayed. Prayed that they were passed by, and that if for some reason they were discovered Percy would be safe. She couldn't care less about her own well-being.

She just needed this _idiot_ that was putting himself in harm's way to be okay.

Tires continued moving closer. Rumbling thunder echoing in the car, becoming steadily louder. The leather upholstery that moved against her jeans was becoming unbearably uncomfortable. Her muscles, so uncaring and perfectly fine before hearing tires rolling along were suddenly hyper-sensitive. They ached for relief. To stretch beyond their current encasement and break free.

She had to bite on her bottom lip when she guessed that the car was right at the mouth of the alleyway, peering in. Although a few dozen feet, a car cover, glass, leather seats, _and_ Percy himself blocked her view, she swore she could feel a cold glare piercing her skin. Raking across her stomach. Spreading ice through her veins. Like she was being marked.

Was that a squeak she heard, like a car break? Was that an idling engine, or an active one? Was her mind playing tricks on her, trying to get her caught? Or maybe she was simply going insane. Insanity caused by stress and anger. Anger at these stupid people that were causing Percy so much… Pain? Suffering? He didn't seem to care.

But he cared about her. He _worried_ about her. They were causing him to worry. That was enough cause.

As quickly as her fear had overtaken and clouded her mind, it was gone. Annabeth still heard the thundering of car tires on pavement. She still heard the engine of whatever car had gone by. But it was _leaving._ It was going away. And when she couldn't feel, or hear, the presence from before, she felt Percy's lips press harder against her forehead.

She released her breath in a shaky, quiet puff that caused her entire body to shake uncontrollably. Percy's leather jacket only seemed to reflect her cold, clammy skin temperature back into herself. It was technically Spring, but even the seat beneath her felt frozen. If she could see two feet in front of her, she wouldn't be surprised if her misty breath hung in her vision.

Percy somehow tugged himself closer, and she stretched herself outward, all the way to her toes. His arm under her neck readjusted, causing her to roll her head. The hands that were still clasped together began moving upwards until they rested by Annabeth's side, inside of the jacket. Her other hand pressed against his wound still, palm flat. He was warm. She was cold. They evened out one another.

His lips moved away from her hair for only a moment, and she could feel _his_ shaky breath against her skin. She hadn't even realized he'd been holding his until his chest began expanding and contracting against her own. "If anything happens, I need you to jump into the front seat."

Annabeth's eyes flashed upwards, wishing she could see his face. To hear this was some sick joke or something. But all she had was his tone, and she couldn't say it was a lie. God, she wished she could see his face. "We'll be fine." She said. "You'll be okay." Her hand squeezed his. Her face pressed into his neck

She felt his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down as he repeatedly tried to swallow whatever had lodged into his throat. When he spoke, he sounded parched. "The keys are in the ignition. Don't go back to Juniper's- they might follow. Go directly to the police station-"

" _You'll be fine."_ She hissed, trying to get closer. She was almost tempted to try and shimmy herself so that _he_ was pinned to the seat and she was on top of him, but he remained stuck in place. A rock. "They'll think we escaped, and they'll leave us alone. Then we can _both_ drive down to the police station." She said, still whispering. "We can go home."

It was the first time she'd ever referred to Grover and Juniper's apartment as 'home'. She wasn't sure she'd had a real home since her _real_ mother had left. Home had been corrupted by bruised skin and pain. Home wasn't 'home' anymore. 'Home' wasn't a word she used without weight.

She wanted to go home. With _Percy._

Somehow his grip around her became even tighter. His hand around her neck locked her lips to his neck, and his legs pinned hers to the seat again. She closed her eyes, trying to let his warmth seep deeper into her skin, to her chilled bones. Her left hand, the one that had been resting against his left side, wrapped under his waist and pressed against the small of his back. He was about to protest when he cut himself off. Annabeth squeezed her eyes tighter.

Rolling thunder, growling menacingly and patrolling the street like a stray dog. Annabeth felt every vibration, every movement, and every single tremble through the car. What interested her more, and what she focused on so as to distract herself, was Percy's pulse through his neck. It beat like a drum, rapid but consistent.

The threat passed. She released her breath, and he did the same. Annabeth trusted herself to speak first. "What are we waiting for? Why aren't we trying to escape?" She asked. She looked up at him, and he must've been looking down. Their breaths mixed together, causing her to feel a bit dizzy.

"We're in a cutoff neighborhood. Three exits, three cars. They _could_ wait for us, but then-" before Percy could finish his sentence, his comment was overtaken by a much louder, more worrying noise. Pops and bangs, far off and few between long groups of silence. Annabeth shivered, unsure if her assumptions were correct. A cold claw of worry gripped her heart.

' _Gunshots.'_

"We need to leave." Percy said, letting go of her hand and scooting up until he was leaning against the door. Annabeth sat up as well, still blinking. Her eyes hadn't adjusted to the darkness yet. Percy opened the door, stretching the car cover as he did. What little light gave Percy a faint silhouette, and his eyes were finally visible. "I need you to stay here. Stay down, please." He whispered, and before she could respond he left the car.

Annabeth sat up, putting her legs down until her bare feet touched the floor mat. She pushed those annoying curls out of her face again, blowing a few strays when they rested against her face again. Admittedly, she wanted to curl back up into a ball and fall asleep again, but she kept her ears pricked, listening for danger. By now, the gunshots were starting to sound more frequent. Escalating.

Percy removed the cover with much less care as he'd had putting it on. Perhaps she'd been too busy to notice before, but now Annabeth heard every scrape of the material against the metal. She strained to hear beyond Percy's shoeless feet padding against the pavement underfoot.

Straight ahead. Annabeth was sure about it. She could hear the gunshots echoing from directly ahead, maybe two or three streets over. She'd never had to judge distance for _gunshots,_ but she was trying to be realistic. She was beginning to think an actual firefight was breaking out only a block from them when she did a full one-eighty.

Four more shots, this time behind them. She could _see_ these ones. Not the initial explosion of a bullet exiting the gun, but the flash of light reaching over buildings. She was reminded of the street fireworks a few of their more adventurous neighbors set off over last years Fourth of July. White fizzles and pops, made to make kids laugh.

Annabeth wondered if fireworks would ever feel the same again. She wondered if the same panic she felt at this exact moment would be duplicated years to come.

The trunk was opened, then immediately closed again. Annabeth could hear the shots both in front and behind her growing more and more frequent. More real. It wasn't until Percy was in the driver's seat and turning the key in the ignition did Annabeth start redirecting her focus to him. His fingers tapped against the wheel as he started pulling into the street. His headlights were still off, and he was driving purely by silhouette. "We'll need to move quickly. I don't know what will happen if we're found out in the street."

Annabeth was leaning forward, hands on the driver and passenger seat shoulders. She was looking at Percy, watching as his purring engine maneuvered them through the dark street until they reached the T-junction. Percy immediately turned left, coasting. "Who's _shooting?_ What's going on?" She whispered frantically.

They were passing by the street where she'd first heard gunshots. It wasn't hard to tell what was going on, considering the lights provided by gunshots. Annabeth could see two of the brightly painted cars that had been following them were now side by side, hands and glinting metal reaching out of smashed windows. Annabeth could _see_ the ghostly lights of bullets leaving gun barrels.

But what was the most vivid, most scary thing she saw was the opposition.

There must've been two dozen of them, all taking cover behind fences, parked cars, and any other half-sturdy object that could be found. Annabeth couldn't see what they were wearing, or hear if any or if they were speaking. It was as if they were caught by strobe lights, constantly flashing and sending distorted half-images to her mind. She could hear primal screams and high pitched yells, directed at these two vehicles that had been in their neighborhood for too long.

War seemed to be breaking out, and she didn't doubt who had started it.

 _Them._

Annabeth had seen it. She'd seen Percy's obnoxious, reckless driving. His flashing headlights and off-side turn signals. This wasn't some 'good' neighborhood like she'd thought. This was a tough street, full of shady people doing shady things. She wasn't sure how, but Percy had provoked, or maybe signaled to the people inside these homes. She wasn't sure, but she wasn't stupid, either. Percy had been waiting for gunshots.

She could see this kid, no older than Leo, or Frank. She watched him duck under a porch light, out of sight of the cars but perfectly caught in her view. He was taking deep breaths, his shoulders heaving with the untapped adrenaline that must've been in his system. He held a handgun parallel to his chest, his fingers testing the grip.

Annabeth watched him hit the dirt the moment he'd stepped out from behind the wall, a bullet buried who-knows-where. She ducked her head away from the fighting, biting hard on her lower lip.

Percy drove. He drove until they'd reached an exit to this dead-end neighborhood. He drove until the sound of gunshots was a distant memory. Until the police sirens had gone past them, and disappeared before Annabeth's numb mind could process that she had even seen the blue's and red's moving past them. Her head rested against the window, trying to let the cold seep through and into her head. To get that _noise_ out of there.

It wasn't until they were back on the Freeway, moving North that Percy spoke. "I'm sorry." He whispered. Annabeth closed her eyes, not speaking. She could still hear the yelling. No doubt, the gunshots behind their car had been the third car chasing them getting put under fire. How had _they_ fared against the rough attack? There couldn't have been more than five people in each of those cars. Probably less, even- but how many guns did the neighborhood have? How many swarmed the single car, as opposed to the other two, who had been together?

"It was us or them, and it wasn't going to be us." He said, and although his voice was barely above a whisper, it rang with conviction. He wasn't lying. As they passed between lights, Annabeth felt the inner turmoil bubbling inside her. Dark, light, dark, light. Selfish, selfless. Alive, dead.

"Why did you take us there in the first place?" She asked, looking directly at his eyes in the rearview mirror. His gaze was directly on the road ahead, instead of at her. She started rubbing her forehead, trying to soothe away the beginning of a migraine. "Did you know that was going to happen?"

Percy's hands began to readjust on the steering wheel, uncomfortable. Probably with discussing this… situation. _Annabeth_ didn't feel comfortable. He let a full minute build, silence seeming to encompass the car. A semi passed by, shifting gears and causing the road around them to rumble as it got off at the next exit. "I know neighborhoods like those. The people in them are paranoid, and if they feel threatened, they act." He said, sounding as vague as he could. Annabeth felt her eye twitch. "I saw it on my GPS, noticed the three exits, and where it was…"

Annabeth leaned back into the leather seat, her head resting against the back. She wished the heater would kick up a notch. She was freezing, even in Percy's jacket. "So you drove around, causing a scene and making noise so someone would start shooting?" She asked, agitation leaching into her tone. She felt her head pounding.

"I didn't think he'd shoot _back."_ He said, taking an equally aggravated tone with her. He ran a hand through his hair in emphasis. She could see his eyebrows forming a narrow 'v' in between his eyes. "I figured that if they we scared them off-"

Annabeth interrupted him with a discomforted noise in the back of her throat. He'd said it, let it slip. It wasn't like she hadn't already said it before, but he'd just admitted it. "You know them." She said, not asked. She was sure of it, and his knuckles gripping the steering wheel turned a shade paler. "How do you know them?"

Percy turned to her then, completely throwing the driving laws out the window. He stared at her for a full thirty seconds, no looking at the road. Although it was nearly one in the morning, and the Freeway was lacking it's usual crowd, Annabeth was still unnerved. Sure, she joked he was a bad driver (and he'd proven it on a few choice occasions), but he'd never blatantly ignored such a basic rule. Even for only thirty seconds. "You know _how."_ He said, his voice dangerously hollow.

Annabeth didn't speak for a long time. She let the lights cast shadows over her, and over him. It was an ominous sight, especially when the light abandoned Percy's eyes, causing them to glow venomously. He was keeping his eyes on the road, not caring to look back at her. Not even once. Dark, light. Dark, light. Dark, light.

Annabeth took off her seatbelt, and still Percy didn't look back. She picked up her socks, bending low and huffing when it strained her back. Still, she guessed he didn't notice. Or, more likely, he was choosing to ignore her. Maybe that was the best option for him at the moment, to avoid it and let off steam slowly, seething. That wasn't how Annabeth wanted it. She had to be careful, climbing from the backseat and into the passenger's side. Her hips grazed the seat as she pulled herself up and over the middle console.

"What're you-" Percy began, but was immediately cut off by Annabeth glaring at him for his aggressive tone. She sat back into her previous seat, huffing and re-buckling up. She adjusted until she was comfortable, looking straight ahead and up the road. Her lips were set in a thin line, along with her eyebrows, running parallel. Her arms crossed over her chest, and maybe she would've looked more intimidating if she wasn't wearing a leather jacket two sizes too big.

At least she'd grabbed Percy's attention again. He switched glaring between the road and her, alternating every five seconds. He seemed completely confused, and completely helpless in this situation. Which he was, of course. It wasn't until he finally felt his anger spilling over that he sighed, giving up on trying to figure out what she wanted from him and focusing again on the road. Annabeth already saw his frown beginning to form.

"I never asked who did it to you." She said, voice quiet. They'd been quiet all night, and she was starting to think that was the problem. "I never asked who stabbed you." She elaborated, voice rising. "I still don't want to know, in all honesty. I'm _scared_ to know." She admitted. Percy was silent beside her, and she gave him a knowing glance. He sighed. "And I get that you're scared, too. I couldn't imagine…" She _couldn't_ imagine. She didn't even try to. She covered her pause with a weak cough.

Percy spoke louder as well. His voice was parched again. "I can't let them get to you." He said. "I don't want them to know you even exist. I can't risk you getting hurt."

"Why not call the police?" She asked. "The moment that you realized we were being followed, why not report the problem?" That would've been her first instinct. No matter what problems or past experiences she'd had with cops before, she wouldn't have let that stop her from asking the peacekeepers keep the peace. It was, in fact, their _job._ Petty arguments wouldn't have stopped them for her, and not for Percy.

Right?

Percy shook his head slowly. "They would've dragged us into the station again. They would've called your parents, or my foster dad, and we'd have to explain why we were so far from home, out so late, and then..." He trailed off, leaving the statement for her imagination to fill in the blanks. She felt her migraine increase at the idea of her parents dragging her home. "My name is toxic." He said.

"Because of your family? Because of who you are? Do those two Detectives really hold that much power against you?" She asked, unbelieving. There was no way two 'gambling buddies' were this vengeful. She wouldn't believe that lie for a second. "Didn't they get enough money from you?" She asked, and the vision of seeing pre-teen Percy selling drugs on the street corner sent her stomach rolling.

Percy shook head, running his hand through his hair again. He was getting antsy, talking about this. She could see stress lines starting to crease his forehead. "There were so many debts I had to pay, I never fully paid them off when I left, and when they found me again my dad was protecting me from them. They can't report what they know without admitting they were extorting money from me in the first place, so I fell into the biggest career-ending loophole in existence." He said, shaking his head. Annabeth heard the hollowness re-entering his voice. "It's messed up, and they want me locked away, so they keep me as a person of interest in any case my family is involved in. The whole Precinct is just _waiting_ for a call from a patrol officer about a domestic disturbance with me involved in it." He said.

Annabeth was silently running his words through her throbbing skull. She took the information and added it to what she already knew. She thought back to the reactions of all of the officers in the Precinct when they'd been dragged in all those weeks ago. They'd acted like lions eyeing a lamb, sizing up their prey and questioning if they could strike the moment his back was turned. She wondered, briefly, what they thought of _her_ when she'd grabbed his hand, and stood by him. Was her face plastered on a board somewhere?

"So, if your dad ever gets caught, you go to prison?" She asked, a lump forming in her own throat at the thought. She tried to imagine Percy, locked in some state penitentiary somewhere up North, and her visiting with their unborn child. She wondered if their child would have one, or two parents. If she could help it, she would _make it_ two.

"It's not like they could just _attach my name_ to a case I wasn't ever involved in." He said. Annabeth saw his shoulders shrug as he struggled to find the right words. "I just… My dad is powerful, but only because he's on top of everything. The moment he's gone, the next person in line ascends to the throne." He said, using a finger to represent a rising motion. "And the next person in line doesn't really care about the old boss's son being framed by some vengeful cops."

Annabeth shook her head. Percy was right. The law was being manipulated by the fact Percy had a criminal past, and criminal connections, but didn't trust that he _wasn't_ a criminal himself. Meanwhile, Percy had to be careful not to become too involved with whatever his family was involved in. He had to have a cover story in play. At all times. Otherwise, no one would believe him.

"That's why we went to the mall that day." She said, finally understanding. She was a cover story, yes, but it hadn't been established _why._ Annabeth looked to Percy with wide eyes. "You were being pulled into something that involved your dad, weren't you? So you called me to get away from it all?" She guessed. A small, childish thrill of excitement went down her spine when he nodded, albeit while scowling at the memory.

"My jerk of a cousin stole my car. He put it in his chop shop and was planning on sending me the scraps when the police arrived." He said, hands tightening in the wheel. "He called me, with his _one phone call,_ to rub it in that the police were already on their way to arrest me." He said. Annabeth ignored the fact Percy sounded so agitated, instead focusing on putting the clues together.

"So you pulled me aside, to prove that you weren't involved?" She guessed. Again, Percy nodded.

"I'd already reported the car stolen, and it was half taken apart when they found it, so they couldn't name me as an accomplice, or anything like that. I was another victim." He said. Annabeth felt her head really begin pounding. She needed to take a break from thinking. She needed to rest, to _sleep._ It was past one in the morning, inching closer to two. And at least she'd had a nap. Percy must be exhausted.

Annabeth shook her head, but didn't speak. Everything was starting to go quiet again, pulling her back into sleep. It took a few minutes, but her eyelids were beginning to droop lower and lower. She hoped Percy would wake her when they got to Grover and Juniper's. And maybe when her wits were back and she had collected her thoughts properly together she could call him and talk more.

Before she could fully fall asleep though, she felt a hand jostling her shoulder. "Hey, I know you're tired, but we need to talk about something." He said, his voice louder than a whisper. Annabeth felt her numbing head spike in pain, and she winced. ' _So close.'_ Tires still moved against the Freeway, no end in sight as she sat up.

"I'm up, I'm up." She said, and pushed those _stupid_ curls out of her face again. She finally just reached back and pulled the hairband out of her hair, letting her hair down. She ruffled her curls a little, sighing in content when they all stayed mercifully away from her face. "What do we still need to talk about?" She asked. She hoped it wasn't anything too important. She wasn't functioning that well currently.

"I don't want you to go back to Grover and Juniper's tonight." He said. She wasn't so tired, suddenly. She looked over at him, blinking slowly. She had to go over his expression twice, but didn't see any semblance of joking. If anything, he looked reluctant. His hands kept a firm grip on the steering wheel, and he kept readjusting the heater. Different levels of warmth travelled over her as he took his lower lip into his mouth.

"Why not?" She asked, not so much angry as she was confused and tired. Percy always gave her a reasonable answer. He always had a reason for doing everything.

He shrugged. He _shrugged._ "I'd feel better if you were closer to me. I mean, I don't know if they knew you were even with me, but these guys don't know where I live. And not to mention they saw us heading towards the Hudson, so…" He said, trailing off. Annabeth's eyes grew wide, threatening to burst out of their sockets in astonishment. The moon would be jealous.

"You want me to go with you to your _house?"_ She asked, shocked. "As in, sleep and wake up tomorrow there?" She asked, shaking her head just at the thought. No, nope, not happening. It's not as though she didn't trust Percy, it was the fact that she wasn't… _comfortable_ with the idea of sleeping over. She wanted, needed, something more normal for her routine. She need that half-room at Juniper's tiny apartment and her fluffy pillows. She needed to have that itchy blanket and some vegetarian-based meal in the morning.

She needed to feel the letter in her hands again. She hadn't been able to get an ounce of sleep since it had come, unless she held it, only held it, for a minute.

Percy might've taken a bit of offense at her tone, because his face burned bright red and he ran a hand through his hair again. When he spoke, his voice was indignant. "I'm not asking to share a bed with you, or anything like that." He said. "I have a couch in my room, or I could take the one out in the living room-" He cut himself off, once again changing the temperature, violently shoving it down halfway and turning the fan down. He spoke again, this time a bit less hostile. "And Paul is at some conference in Jersey for the next few days. Some kind of new lesson program, or something."

Annabeth crossed her arms, biting her lips. Okay, admittedly that was a big part of why she didn't want to go home with him. She barely knew anything about his foster dad, and apparently the man's opinion held a lot of weight in Percy's opinion. But that didn't mean that she still didn't want to be in her own bed, in her own home. It was nearly two in the morning! Why did she have to make these decisions now? "I don't think it's a good idea." She said. "And I don't want to bother you anymore tonight."

Percy's eyes widened comically as he looked at her, his eyebrows scrunching together in apparent surprise. His hands reached for the heater _again,_ and Annabeth felt her teeth gritting together in annoyance. He dropped his hand, though, so she assumed he had just given up on trying to be comfortable. His jacket still hung on her shoulders. "You never bother me, Annabeth. I mean, unless you actually try to bother me, but usually it's the other way around." He said. Annabeth tried not to let her heart speed up like it wanted to.

"Percy, we're already almost to-" Annabeth began, but froze when she caught the street signs on the Freeway. She read each one, trying to compare them to the various signs she'd seen heading towards the Hudson over the past few weeks. She couldn't. These signs indicated they were going North East. Towards her home, towards school.

Towards Percy's house.

"We're already kind of close?" Percy admitted it, phrasing it like a question. It was almost as if he were trying to apologize at the sametime as mentioning his crime. He started tucking his neck into his shirt, and his knuckles gripped the steering wheel even tighter than before. Annabeth felt her eye twitch. "I swear, I didn't mean to." He said weakly, seeing the expression on her face.

"How could you _not_ mean to drive towards your own home? Did dropping me off just _skip your mind?"_ She asked, raising her hands in exasperation. She looked to the roof of the car, wishing that the answer to how Percy could be such an idiot was written there. Maybe she could force intelligence into his mind if she tried hard enough. "Percy, I'm tired. It's been a long night, for the both of us, and I just want to go to sleep." She moaned, leaning her head back and rubbing her tired eyes.

She heard him mutter, probably louder than he meant. "Me too." She didn't really pay it too much attention, until she yawned and he yawned not even a moment later. She wanted to roll her eyes, but she was slowly beginning to feel that lapse of consciousness taking over, trying to make her sleep. Percy must've seen her. "I'm sorry, really. I didn't even realize until we were already almost there, and by then-"

Annabeth nodded, yawning again. "Which is why you asked if I wanted to spend the night." She guessed, this time curling up further into herself, officially ready to sleep. Her legs pulled up to her body and arms tucked into the much larger sleeves of Percy's jacket. Her cheek was up against the window, and she was starting to lose herself with each blink. "Not because you really want me there."

"It's not like that." He said, and already her hearing was starting to fade away. His voice was joining the ambience, like the tires against the road and the lights passing in and out of view. "Really, I meant what I said. I want you by me. Those guys…" Percy trailed off. Annabeth found herself not caring.

"Does the offer still stand?" She asked. Maybe she was in between sleep and awake, or maybe Percy was actually surprised she was talking still about this. She didn't know why she was even still conscious, or maybe she wasn't anymore. Maybe this part of the night was a dream. Maybe she didn't really watch a firefight in a trashy neighborhood. Maybe that was all a dream, and Percy would wake her up and walk her back to her room. He'd pull the covers back just so he could tuck her in. Maybe he'd even give her a kiss on the cheek. Or lips.

"Of course." He whispered. She nodded lightly, or maybe she only thought she nodded, when she felt herself drifting off to sleep again.

…

Annabeth didn't feel the car stopping. She didn't stop herself from almost falling out of the passenger seat when Percy opened the door. She didn't wake because of his quiet curse, either, when that happened. He walked out of the parking garage, down the block, and through the lobby without a hitch. How did she know? Annabeth woke up the moment that Percy had accidentally bonked her head against the elevator door.

"Ouch." She winced, reaching her previously limp right arm up to her head. She was still trying to keep from blinking the sleep out of her eyes when she probed the spot with her finger, feeling for where it hurt most. Off to the left of her skull, she pressed gently and was rewarded with a stab of pain. She hissed, tugging herself closer to… whatever she was currently attached to.

It had a heartbeat. A very loud, fast heartbeat. In fact, Annabeth was pretty sure that if she focused hard enough she'd remember exactly where she was and who she was with. However, she was still tired. All she needed to know was that some their hand under her legs and another arm supporting her back and neck.

"Percy?" She asked quietly, and her left arm, which was probably around his neck, began to move and twitch. She felt the hair at the nape of his neck, and grasped at it tightly, holding it. He made a discomforted noise in the back of his throat. She smiled when she heard it. His leather jacket was extremely warm, especially where his chest rested against her side. She tried getting closer.

"Hey." He said, and she could already hear the apology in his voice. "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

Annabeth snorted, and then immediately regretted making that noise. It was extremely unattractive. She tried to cover it up with a yawn, but then when she heard his in responding yawn she felt bad. How long had he been driving? "I'd be worried if you _meant_ to hit my head on… whatever it was." She said. Her hand was still against his hair. It felt really, really soft.

"An elevator door." He supplied helpfully, and Annabeth could hear the weariness in his voice. He must've been spent. He'd had as rough a day as her, minus the napping. He must've been exhausted. Annabeth felt bad, so she sighed and pushed away a bit. He immediately understood and tried pulling her close again. "It's fine. You can go back to sleep, and I'll just put you to bed."

Annabeth felt a smirk reach her lips. "No _other_ activities you want to do in that bed tonight?" She asked, and if that wasn't proof of some form of severe sleep deprivation and pregnancy brain combined, she wouldn't know what qualified. Percy immediately began choking on his own saliva, and Annabeth effectively escaped his grasp and began laughing at him in the confines of the elevator. She didn't realize she was still barefoot until her feet touched the cold carpet of the elevator. She heard two dull ' _thunks'_ and saw her shoes at her feet. They must've been in her lap.

When Percy had his breath back, Annabeth could _see_ the bags under his eyes. His shoulders were hunched over and his mouth was set into a drooping frown, like his face didn't even want to try lifting itself up. "No, nothing else. And I'm not fighting over who gets the bed, because I'm too tired. Take it, because if you try giving it to me then I'm on the floor." He said, and her smile grew just a little bit. She was still tired, but seeing Percy all pouty and half asleep… Adorable. That was the word.

When the elevator opened, Percy didn't even bother with words. He grabbed her hand in his and led her all the way to the end of the hallway. She didn't pay attention to details, though she was pretty sure they were going into room _930._ She couldn't be sure, because she was too busy watching Percy struggle to fit the key in the keyhole. His hands shook terribly, and Annabeth almost took pity on him before he finally got the door open.

It was too dark to tell what was there. All Annabeth saw were the two rectangular, grey outlines of windows against the far wall. Percy didn't bother with any 'grand tour' or whatever. He didn't do much of anything besides gesturing weakly at the room around them. He toed off his shoes and left them on the welcome mat. Annabeth followed his lead, dropping her shoes with a muted ' _Thunk.'_

He grabbed her hand loosely in his own, pulling her forwards about a dozen steps before moving right and leading her down some sort of hallway, the cold floor pressing beneath her feet. Her eyes still hadn't adjusted to the dark, but she could hear Percy's hand scraping against the wall on her left. His right hand tightened it's grip slightly. She heard a door open on the left, followed closely by the ' _click'_ of a lightswitch. She felt very lucky now, knowing that her eyes were better off in a lit room.

Percy hissed lightly, but just continued onwards into what must've been his bedroom. It certainly _looked_ that way. The walls were a deep, dark blue, and the light seemed to be sucked into the paint itself, like the deep ocean. Posters covered the wall and a big, black three-cushion couch was pressed against the far wall. Perpendicular to the couch was his dresser, and in the center of the room was his twin-size bed, nightstand beside that. As stated earlier in the evening, his room was cluttered. Mostly clothes, but Annabeth saw a pizza box resting on the couch. His skateboard was leaning haphazardly against the open closet door.

Percy didn't seem to mind. In fact, he simply yawned and made his way to the dresser. As Annabeth observed his room, he opened his drawers and began to go through them. He yawned again, looking over and offering her a tired smile. "Make yourself at home. I've got some sweats that might fit you, and there should be an unopened toothbrush in the bathroom." He turned his attention back to the dresser, his arms seeming to disappear as he delved deeper. His tongue stuck out in concentration. "Just gimme a second…"

Annabeth felt her lips upturn lightly, but immediately rest back down again. How was it that one minute this boy was so cute, and so completely clueless, but then did something that seemed so cruel and be unfazed? How was it that he found a way to justify every choice he made with her as the answer? Why was it they worked out so well one moment, but then fought the next? Why was it she couldn't actually stay mad at him unless he was hiding something from her? Why was he such an exception?

Annabeth wanted to be angry. She wanted to call it unfair and uncalled for that she was being thrust into this life, _his_ life, as a teenage mother of their child. They hadn't even _mentioned_ each other's true intentions for parenthood. All she knew was that he knew she wanted that Stanford education.

Annabeth watched as he pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants and a loose, Nike dry fit T-shirt. He was grinning triumphantly, holding them up for Annabeth to inspect. She took the material in her hands, rubbing her fingers through the fabric.

No, she knew something else. She knew the answer. Everything Percy was doing, he was doing for _her_ , and for their _child._ He was, as cliche as it sounded, pure-hearted. He genuinely cared about her. Maybe he'd even had feeling for her before all of this. He'd certainly acted like he was interested. And that _kiss-_ she was interested. She could fully admit to herself that this boy, with the attention span of a Beagle and the troublemaker smirk, had caught her attention. Not just as a sad, New Years Eve rebound, either.

Annabeth _liked_ him. He made her laugh. He made her smile. Even more so, when he was stressed, so was she. When he was angry, she felt angry. When he distanced himself, she thought she might be the problem. When she was at her weakest, he'd been there to hold her up. _Twice._

Maybe it was more than like…

"It's perfect." She said, taking the sweat pants from him as well. She liked the color of the dry fit shirt. It was a deep, forest green that complimented his eyes. She really liked his eyes. Especially when he was smiling as widely as he was now. She coughed lightly when she realized they had both been staring at one another. "Do you mind letting me change first?" She asked.

Percy immediately nodded, picking up a stray pair of pajama pants and kissing her cheek before running from the room. She decided, watching him leave, that maybe things were hard to get past. Maybe the relationship she craved was one-sided, and she needed to get out.

But dang, when she saw his soft smile and felt his lips on her cheek, she couldn't help but cross her fingers that he felt the same. And that all these obstacles would get out of her way quickly.

She changed, making sure to put her tie the straps of his sweat pants up until the waistband rested on her hips. The material wasn't scratchy at all, as she'd first thought. The shirt was a bit loose, and the fact she'd removed her bra might've made her feel a little cold was embarrassing, but she quietly slipped the fabric over her shoulders as she heard the door behind her open, followed by a silent gasp.

Annabeth immediately pulled the hemline of the shirt as far down as it would go (past her hips) and turned towards the door, blushing. Percy stood in the doorway, red faced and eyes wide. His hair had been a mess before, but now it tilted at all sorts of funny angles and odd shapes. He was still wearing the same shirt, but his blue flannel pajama pants rested low on _his_ hips. Annabeth could make out the grey beginnings of his underwear. "I didn't see anything." He said quickly, immediately looking away after speaking.

Annabeth didn't know how to respond, so she simply didn't. She waited until her blush had disappeared and her head stopped pounding so furiously. Percy's gaze switched to her, then immediately dipped back to the floor. He started pointing weakly to his dresser, then back out to the bathroom and living room. "I- I just forgot to g- grab a sleeping shirt, and the bathrooms open for you and…" He started speaking much quieter, almost silently.

Annabeth, initially embarrassed (only because _he_ had been) simply rolled her eye and took a few steps towards him, and then passed him. "It's fine, Percy." She said, squeezing by him in the doorframe. He was _just_ big enough that his chest brushed against her own as they did, and maybe Annabeth felt her own breath leave her lungs sharply when she realized braless wasn't the best choice. As she began closing the bathroom door, she's pretty sure she heard him swear under his breath.

Annabeth had to steady herself on the counter in the bathroom, looking at her flushed face in the mirror. His shirt wasn't tight by any means, the opposite in fact, but still it felt like it was clinging to her. His sweatpants were hanging particularly low, now that she saw them in the reflection. The shirt was stuck to the top of them on her left side, exposing a strip of skin there. She was pretty sure Percy had been staring at it.

"Dang, I hope he's interested." She whispered to herself. She grabbed the toothbrush that had been left out on the counter, still encased in it's plastic wrappings. She quickly tore it off, put the tap water on, added toothpaste, and began to furiously scrub at her mouth. Maybe she could get that taste, and effectively him, out of her mind for a few minutes.

But after wasting five or so minutes loitering in the bathroom, she unlocked the door and made her way to Percy's room. She took a moment, turning off the hallway light and looking towards the living room beyond. It was just a dark mass currently, but she swore she could hear his steady breathing already. Annabeth turned away, going into his room and turning off the light behind her.

…

Annabeth never really slept well in new places. She didn't like the sounds of _other_ buildings settling, and apartment buildings were always loud. Too many unknown individuals living above, below, and through the walls that she didn't know how anyone could live anywhere where total strangers surrounded them. Juniper and Grover's was different. They lived above her flower shop and the two floors above them were vacant. Her old house was just that, a _house_. There wasn't any form of shared walls where she didn't know who was on the other side.

Percy's room was different, though. She was tucked well under his comforter, her chin warm and lips cold. She let her eyes adjust, watching the shadows and shapes seem to morph together and then back apart under her watchful eye. His room was overlooking an alleyway nine floors below, and the apartment building across the way was very much blocking any moonlight, but it was _less_ grey there. She focused on the window, and the dull outline of bricks beyond, until she admitted that she couldn't find it in herself to sleep.

Annabeth stood slowly, quietly testing the carpeted floor for any creaks of gives. Her toes stretched and wiggled, enjoying the feeling of fabric under feet when she felt what must've been a shirt there. Eventually, pushing the covers back fully and letting the slight chill of the night seep into her skin, she stood.

She didn't really have anything in mind to do. She wasn't going to leave the room because, well, it was all she had mapped out. Besides, she didn't want to wake Percy while he slept. It was obvious that he had been completely exhausted and he probably wouldn't wake until late afternoon. It was Sunday, after all.

So instead she pulled out her phone and began using the small source of light to explore. She hadn't gotten that good of a look around Percy's room, and boredom had started to overcome her intuitive and questioning mind. She sidestepped shirts and sneakers until she reached his closet. The door was already wide open, so Annabeth merely placed her hand on the doorframe as she began her exploration.

She pushed aside the few shirts hanging on hangers, finding only a blank wall. She checked underneath a pile of shoeboxes, and basically violated whatever privacy Percy might've had in regards to his own room. She had to shake her head a few times, but otherwise she didn't see any real harm in looking around. Maybe it was sleep deprivation, maybe it was just her… _Wondering._ It wasn't her finest moment.

When Annabeth had checked over two or three boxes that had been high above her head on the tallest shelf, she moved on to the dresser. There was a junk drawer, purposefully crammed with little things- pencils, old notebooks, laser pointers, etc. Annabeth _did_ find a small penlight, so she switched off her phone and began to use that instead.

Dresser done, she switched to nightstand. Then the couch. She just searched, not for anything in particular. It's just… she wanted to know more about him. She liked knowing the little things about him, like how he ran his hand through his hair when he was nervous, or how he eats the blue M&M's out of the package before any of the other colors. Maybe she just wanted to find out… more. That wasn't weird.

Was it?

She found a trophy on his dresser. First place in Swimming, though she didn't recognize the event or the school that he'd competed against. It was from two years ago, though. Sophomore year. She found shells. Lots and lots of seashells, all of them unique and different. She found a large conch shell, varying shades of pink and orange mixing like a sunset. Annabeth was in awe of the beauty, and wondered what beach Percy went to to find such a beautiful shell.

She found a few pictures in his nightstand, buried under sweatshirts and school supplies. They were all wrinkled and cracked, like they'd been shoved deep into pockets too small to hold them. Under the glare of the penlight, it was nearly impossible to see, but she was sure this was the famous Sally Jackson. Brown curly hair, deep chocolate eyes, and a worn and weary smile, still genuine. Annabeth found herself holding the pictures for a long time, resting them against her stomach.

She held the penlight steady so as to get a good view of the woman in the image. Others still depicted her, they all did, but the one above them all was just her face. Just her genuine smile looking up at Annabeth. She looked so… kindly. So tired and calm, but also open. Loving. Percy talked about her sometimes. Not often, of course, but when he did his eyes would just _shine._ Annabeth was almost jealous sometimes, by how much they would drift further from the problems he faced. He had her to turn to, even when she was gone.

Annabeth stared at the photo. She wished she had someone like that. Someone experienced, wise beyond their years and willing to help others through theirs. She'd wanted that, initially, in a step mother. Before her father became bitter enough to hate her, and it was only sorrowfully that he would look at her, instead of angrily. No words of advice, or even so much as pat on the back. When Helen had appeared, Annabeth thought she might have that.

Annabeth couldn't tear her eyes away from the photograph. She suddenly really, really wished that she could meet this woman. To talk, to be listened to. To hear words replied back to her.

"Hello." Annabeth murmured, coughing lightly into her shoulder. The kindly smile encouraged her to continue. "I'm Annabeth. I- I'm Percy's…" What was she? Girlfriend? She wanted to be. Baby Mama? An Urban Dictionary term, maybe. She was technically carry their child, and Percy wasn't ignoring her… so she mattered to him. "I don't know. I guess I'm his girlfriend, but I'm… more." Was it bad that she couldn't admit to a photo what was going on? She swallowed her fear. "I'm carrying his baby. _Our_ baby."

Annabeth was quiet. She could imagine the same silence if this woman had been standing in front of her. "I guess not many moms want to hear their sons are going to be fathers before they've graduated high school. Until _marriage."_ Annabeth whispered the word, not even daring to think about it. "And it wasn't like it was planned, or anything. I- I didn't even know him. At all." She admitted.

The photo stared back. Annabeth could stop herself from speaking. "He talks about you. _All the time._ Everytime he talks about his childhood, or mentions how crappy things were, he always ends up talking about you. It's always about _mom."_ Annabeth says, pausing. She can't believe she'd talking to a photo. She doesn't want to stop, though. "I can't be you. I don't think I could be anywhere near as how perfect you were to Percy. You raised a gentleman, you know. I don't have a clue how to raise anyone. I had to raise _myself,_ and… that just didn't work out." Annabeth took a deep breath closing her eyes. The penlight shook in her hand.

When she opened her eyes, Annabeth could see another photo, this one of Sally holding a baby Percy, dark hair and strikingly green eyes. He had to be just barely one, maybe a bit older. He was so… small. So smiley. Annabeth wondered who had taken the photo. "I like your son. I think he likes me, too. For now that's enough, and we've stuck together. But what about after she's born? Will Percy… are we going to still be together?" Annabeth questioned, running her thumb over the baby in Sally Jackson's arms.

With a shock, Annabeth found herself blinking and staring in awe when she realized the shirt Sally Jackson was wearing. The year was printed in big, bold letters, and a 'graduating class of' scheme above it. She did the math in her head, and then flipped the photo, finding a date. ' _August 20th, 1994.'_

Annabeth had to blink a few times. "You were nineteen. When you had Percy, you hadn't even been through college. Percy said you never went." Annabeth realized her cheeks were starting to get wet, tears falling slowly down her face. "H-how did you do it? How were you able to raise him? Did you ever just want to… Give up?" Annabeth saw the answer in that smile. Tired, weary. But hopeful. Happy, even.

She had probably just gotten out of high school, working a waitress job or in some store. Maybe she had been a singer somewhere, trying to make enough money so that she could attend college the next semester. Had Percy's dad caught her eye? Was it supposed to be anything more than a fling? No strings attached?

Percy was an accident.

That… Annabeth felt her tears coming down faster. "I need help. Your son needs help. I don't think I'll ever understand… but you did it, and Percy is basically my best friend right now. I want it to work out." She said, putting the penlight down and touching her stomach. "I'm not ready to be a mother, but I'll try my hardest. Because Percy helps me everyday, and I know I can help him, when the time comes." Tears were cascading down her face now. Annabeth sniffled, trying to stay quiet.

Annabeth put the photos back in their place, but didn't move from where she sat on the bed. She hugged herself closely, hoping that her crying didn't wake Percy.

Sally Jackson, Percy's favorite person on this Earth, had been in the same situation as Annabeth. She'd found herself pregnant, alone, and completely cut off from anyone that cared. She'd married a jerk. She'd worked three jobs. She'd been a _mother._ Annabeth had less pressure that she'd had. She could do it. She could do it for this being that she was bringing into this stupid planet full of stupid people. She could, she _would,_ find a way to be a mother, even if she didn't have the best examples growing up.

Plus she had Percy. That counted for something.

Annabeth tucked herself back into bed, closing her eyes and sniffling. Her tears dried slowly, but eventually she drifted off. "Thank you, Sally." She whispered, right before exhaustion forced her into sleep.

…

Annabeth's sleeping schedule had been _horrible_ since quitting her job and living with Juniper and Grover. She didn't really have any _reason_ to wake up. She ate, she watched movies or texted her brothers, finish online assignments if she had any, and then she'd volunteer down in Juniper's flower shop for a few hours. There just wasn't much to do down there, though. And, much to her embarrassment, she tired easily.

She napped often. An hour or two during the day was set aside for her to catch up on what was apparently much needed rest. Perhaps it was the fact she felt so much less stress than living with her parents. Sure, she'd been tired constantly, but that urge to sleep hadn't been quenched at home. She felt safe enough at Juniper's.

So she must've felt _really_ safe at Percy's.

She felt his warm hands against her arms, gently shaking her awake. Gently trying to pull her away from her most current 'bad habit.' She rolled onto her side, mumbling incoherently as he continued to prod her. "M'try'n sleef." She said into her pillow.

She's pretty sure she heard him chuckle. "Annabeth, you need to get up. We kind of overslept." He said, still shaking her arm, a bit roughly for someone who had only just woken up. She whined a little, trying to pull the covers up and above her head. But Percy caught her hands, and started to pick her up with them. Annabeth squeaked, eyes shooting open when Percy had her standing on top of his bed with just his arms.

"I was trying to sleep." She said, already trying to sink back onto her knees. Maybe she could quickly slip back under the covers. Percy's short attention span would aid in her escape. "Go make us breakfast, then I'll get up." She bargained. That would surely buy her a half hour, at the very least.

Percy grinned up at her, and as if the light from the window wasn't bright enough. This was the ear-to-ear grin she didn't normally see, but loved it when it appeared. "It's already waiting for us. Pancakes, bacon…" He said, going for that falsely seductive voice that he used last night, when convincing her to eat at that diner. Annabeth could already hear her stomach beginning to groan at the thought of food.

Percy noticed, his smile starting to become cocky. Annabeth, a bit more awake than before, swatted at his head. "Jerk. Fine. Just… wipe that smile off your face. You owe me." She said, sitting back on the bed and touching her feet to the floor. She shivered at the cold. After rubbing the remaining sleep from her eyes, she saw Percy's raised eyebrows.

"I owe you, for making _you_ breakfast?" He asked. He looked beyond disbelieving. Annabeth nodded, meaning every word.

"I could've killed you the moment that you woke me up. Therefore, you owe me. Your life, in fact." She said, not caring how deep it sounded after she'd said it. It might've been a joke, but Annabeth saw his frown growing deeper.

"I woke you like, six different times while you were at Grover and Juniper's. You never complained before." He protested, shaking his head. His hair, a mess of bed head and shiny from what she could only guess was sweat, shook and fluffed like it intended to fly off of his head. Annabeth found herself entranced by it for a moment, wanting to run her hand through it.

Annabeth moved those thoughts back. Later, after food had been eaten. Maybe she'd consider running her hand through his hair, or on his chest, or to the back of his neck as her lips pressed against his and-

Baby hormones. Baby hormones, everywhere.

"Witnesses, Percy. I can't kill you when there are witnesses around." She said, standing up. Reflexively, and as what seemed to be a deeply ingrained personal routine, Annabeth stretched and let out a gigantic yawn. As usual, when Percy was there to witness this muscle tradition, yawned as well. She smirked. "Besides, I was a guest in their home. It'd be rude to kill someone in _their_ home." She said, as if that explained everything.

Percy's reactions seemed so genuine, she wondered if he wasn't grasping the concept of what she was talking about, wasn't listening fully, or just wanted to argue with her. She wasn't really concerned, as she began leaving the room and making her way back towards the front door. The kitchen would most likely be that way.

Percy followed after her. "But you're a guest here. Wouldn't it be _more rude_ to kill the host?" He challenged, taking a seat on a stool by his counter top. It was a wrap around kitchen, with an 'island' in the center. A few pots and pans hung above it. Annabeth noticed that everything seemed really… fancy. She almost didn't want to touch anything.

But, as promised, there were four plates laid out with pancakes, bacon, waffles, and scrambled eggs. A picture of orange juice sat on the island. Annabeth wasted no time, jumping up and sitting on the edge of the counter, right next to, and above, Percy. He was forced to look up at her again as she spoke. "Yes, normally, but you're _you,_ so that changes everything." She reasoned.

Percy reached past her lap, grabbing a piece of bacon and popping it into his mouth. He chewed quickly, still frowning. When he swallowed, he grabbed another piece and pointed it accusingly at her. "I think you're crazy. I think all the hormones and stuff are messing with whatever made you seem so logical when I met you." He said.

Annabeth snatched the bacon from his hand, putting it in her mouth and chewing slowly, at least compared to how Pery had been eating his. "I think you're to blame for that, too." She said, and immediately saw how his lips went into a straight line, as if he didn't have any response for her words. She grabbed his shoulder, getting him to look at her. "I'm kidding, Percy." She said. Then, she rubbed her bacon-grease covered hand all over his shoulder.

He batted her hand away, scowling. "Meanie." He said, but Annabeth saw his lips curl up for a second. "C'mon. I'm _starving."_ He stressed, standing and holding his stomach. He gripped her hips as she slid down to the floor, and ended up in his arms. She was now smiling up at him.

"And to think you haven't spent all ten million dollars on food alone. I swear, you eat more than the pig they fed to make that bacon." She said, smiling and letting him reach up to the cupboards for their plates. She wasn't going to guess where everything was like she'd had to at Juniper's.

"You know, you're really mean after you've woken up." He said, leaning a bit into her as he reached further up. Percy's foster dad must've been as tall as he was, because those plates were on the top shelf. Annabeth felt her tailbone dig into the counter as he grabbed them their plates. He handed her a plate, taking a step back. "It's like you don't appreciate that I gave up my _own bed_ so you could sleep soundly." He mocked.

' _It's not like it worked.'_ She thought, thinking of the night before. The pictures that she probably shouldn't have touched. She thought of that boy's body, hitting the grass and laying still. Her lips began to make a line, just as his had moments before. "I would've taken the couch if-"

Percy didn't let her finish what she was going to say, and normally that would've made her angry. The reason she wasn't was because of a few minor factors. One being that he pulled her closer to himself- knees, thighs, hips connecting, keeping his spare hand wrapped around her waist and his stupid little half-smile aimed down at her.

The second reason was probably the same reason she could tease him so relentlessly and still manage to throw some minor death threats his way every other day- He was Percy. She was different around him- more loose. More daring (as if the bump wasn't any indication).

"I stand by what I said last night- I wouldn't have taken the bed if you had offered it." He said, nudging her bare foot with his own and egging her forward. He had her trapped between himself and the counter, her back to his front, as he looked over her shoulder and started to pile food onto his plate. "And I'm sure you're as hungry as I am, considering it's almost noon and we still haven't had anything since yesterday."

Annabeth shivered, feeling his breath going down her shirt. _His_ shirt. His head was right above her shoulder, and each word tickled her neck. She should've probably changed out of his borrowed clothes, because it was just dawning on her how baggy it all was on her. She subconsciously packed her plate with whatever food Percy coaxed her into taking, meaning at least a quarter of the eggs and half of the bacon. That didn't include the five pancakes he snuck on her plate when his hand pressed into her back.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

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 **LHG :)**


	12. Twenty One Weeks

**Hey Guys! So, here's an update for Christmas! just call it a stocking stuffer and know that I've pre-written the chapter after this as well. I'll be posting it on New Years.**

 **Hope you all have a happy holiday season.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I'm still not Rick. This is becoming a chore.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

 _(Twenty One Weeks)_

"What's taking so long?"

Annabeth silently cursed, putting her shirt down over her stomach and stepping off of the scale in Percy's bathroom. She tried not to seem as flustered as she felt, although she reached upwards and pulled a few curls away from her face. She watched as Percy rounded the corner to the bathroom, peeking into the doorway and frowning at her.

She'd been spending a lot of time over at Percy's recently. In the past two weeks, Percy would pick her up from Juniper and Grover's and just… do 'couply' things, she supposed. Walks around the block, movie nights, and study sessions (because she'd realized quite soon how bad his grades had gotten since their situation).

Most of this was accomplished at Grover and Juniper's, but more recently they'd started to move their activities to Percy's apartment.

It wasn't always convenient. Especially when it was a school day and Percy was simply exhausted. It was nearing the end- the long awaited end of Senior year. Tests were starting to appear, and Annabeth knew Percy needed to study- even if he would rather be with her (she smiled when he'd told her that). They met up maybe twice last week, and sure they'd had fun walking around and getting ice cream, but it felt rushed- and the time they had together was limited.

And Annabeth was constantly bored. She'd finished classes and tests online, she'd taken naps, and she'd done just about everything that she could do around Grover and Juniper's little apartment. She'd _cooked_ last night, for goodness sake. She hated cooking, and everything that came out of preparing a meal was tasteless and mushy. Annabeth did not wish her cooking to be forced upon anyone.

And maybe it was because Percy was an exciting, fun individual, and Annabeth just really _hated_ when he seemed just as miserable without her over at his house as well. It wasn't like they were doing anything bad. Sure there had been some kissing, but it hadn't led to anything. They'd be careful, if they ever even planned to go that far. Annabeth wasn't really thinking about it.

But it was Friday night, and Percy's foster dad had left again, heading to Albany to meet up with family. Annabeth had been invited over, and she wasn't going to say no. Percy had rushed to the apartment to pick her up, and after a long drive and the sheer desire to do _anything,_ Annabeth had agreed to a movie night. She had even agreed to let Percy pick the movie.

But half an hour into _Finding Nemo,_ Annabeth had thought… she'd been so certain that this was _it_ this time. That she had felt something, and that that something was Baby. She'd been curled up on the couch, leaning into Percy with one hand wrapped in his and the other resting on her waist. They'd finished the popcorn awhile ago, and everything was going good when suddenly _Boop._

Annabeth had uncurled herself from Percy and excused herself to the restroom. Hopefully to get an assured response to what she should be feeling from Baby.

And now Percy stood in the doorway, frowning at her. His eyebrows were all scrunched together, like they were trying really hard to form a unibrow. His hair was a bit messier than usual, something Annabeth had picked up on when he'd changed into his pajamas. She liked seeing him like that- casually messy.

"Everything okay?" Percy asked, taking a step further into the bathroom. His eyes flitted around the room, as if searching for something out of place. Annabeth silently cursed when he saw his scale on the bathroom floor. He cast her a strange look, eyeing her from head to toe. "Everything okay?" He repeated uncertainly.

Annabeth quickly put on a small, distracting smile. At least, she hoped it was distracting. The way his face seemed to softened made her believe she'd done _something_ to take his mind off of her odd behavior. "I'm perfect." She said, grabbing his hand, already trying to pull him back into the living room.

"What's with the scale then?" Percy asked lightly, as if he were bringing up a forbidden subject. His hand kept a firm grip on hers, and he kept her just in arms reach, not letting her go.

Annabeth tried joking her way out. She raised an eyebrow at him, still smiling. "I don't think that's a question any guy should ask a girl." She said, even laughing a little at her own expense. Perhaps she could fool him with her horrible acting.

Of course Percy noticed, and he began to tug on her arm a little bit, gently pulling her closer and closer. She didn't willingly comply, but eventually Percy had her arms pinned at her sides and her entire body trapped in his embrace. When he spoke, his breath ghosted over her scalp. "You already know I'm stupid, but I'm not _that_ stupid." He said, looking her in the eye. "So what's up?"

Annabeth shifted from one foot to the other quickly, like a little two-step. She bit her lower lip before blurting out. "I thought I felt her kick." She said. Percy pulled back a little, an incredulous look all over his face. "Just now, on the sofa." She said.

Percy wrapped her up in his arms, gently applying pressure in an otherwise bearhug. Annabeth could feel him jumping a little, merely causing her to shrug her shoulders repeatedly. "That's great!" He exclaimed, and Annabeth immediately felt a very warm hand covering her belly. The feeling shocked her at first, but Percy was too busy rubbing his calloused palm around to notice. "Where did you feel it?" He asked.

Annabeth… Kind of liked the warmth. Maybe it would've been less weird though if he hadn't just put his palm under her shirt to feel her distended abdomen. Still, she bit her lip in disappointment, and grabbed his hand. She laced their fingers together, offering him a small smile. "I _thought_ I felt her kick." Annabeth repeated. "It was just in my head." She said.

Percy kept their fingers laced together, squeezing her hand lightly at her words. He gave her a smile back, but it was far from the excitement from his reaction to thinking she'd felt a kick. Maybe it was just boosted hormones, but she felt… self-annoyance. Like she really wanted to feel that first kick already. "I'm sure she's just taking her time. I mean, that isn't supposed to even happen until… when does that start to happen?" He asked.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, tugging Percy out of the bathroom and towards the living room again. This time, Percy willingly followed after her, barely half a step behind her. "Actually, the normal time that the baby should start kicking- and us being able to feel it -is anywhere in between eighteen and twenty-two weeks." She recited, already settling back into her seat on the sofa.

Percy took his seat as well, pulling her closer to him. He was leaning against the armrest, Annabeth tucked into his side and his hands resting around her as before. Only this time, Annabeth felt his hand resting closer to her abdomen. She ignored the butterflies that fluttered in his wake. "And you're twenty-one weeks along now, so the kicking should be starting." Percy filled in. "But aren't you glad it hasn't started yet?"

Annabeth frowned, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and hitting the play button. The movie resumed from where they had paused it. "Why would I be glad?" She asked, and immediately started filling in her own question with answers: ' _Because it means you're closer to giving birth. Because he's not ready to think about fatherhood yet, and doesn't expect you to be thinking about motherhood. Because he doesn't care when the baby starts kicking.'_

"Doesn't it… I don't know… I'd just think it would hurt." Percy said, and Annabeth wondered why she thought he would think anything different. It had to be the hormones.

"I wouldn't know, I haven't felt a kick yet." She said. "But maybe it might. I don't think it will, though."

"Like the stuff that was happening a few weeks ago?" Percy asked, and Annabeth had to think back a few weeks ago, four or five. Annabeth had been feeling… strange sensations in her belly. She'd browsed all over the internet and found the answer (baby was learning how to suck and swallow), but she didn't remember telling Percy any of that.

"How did you-?" She began, and Percy's face flushed red with embarrassment.

"You were making weird faces whenever I was over. I thought maybe you just didn't like the shirt I was wearing." He said, and Annabeth had a flashback to when Percy had been over for dinner. It was either Tuesday or Thursday, but Annabeth remembered a dark button down. She was pretty sure Percy had taken it off halfway through the meal as well.

Annabeth decided she would tease him later, if she remembered. Until then, she'd wait for the situation to seem less sweet than it probably really was. "Either way, if it hurts then it hurts. There's nothing I can really do about it. I just want to be sure that it starts happening when it's supposed to." She said, curling her back into his front. His arms tightened around her.

"I hope it doesn't hurt." Percy said, and Annabeth made a small noise of agreement in the back of her throat. "But why was the scale out then?" He asked.

"I thought I told you that that was a question you don't ask a girl." She said, and this time she felt his hands go to her sides and start pressing against her skin. Annabeth immediately squealed, trying to jump away but Percy's grip kept her in place. He pulled her flush against his chest, his breath tickling her neck.

"Answer the question, Annabeth. Otherwise I keep tickling." He threatened, pressing down on her hips again. She squealed again, trying in vain to pry herself from his grip. He wasn't letting go anytime soon. Nor was he bluffing when he said he was going to keep her there until he had an answer.

"Pregnancy weight. I just wanted to make sure that I was still gaining enough. And to make sure I wasn't overeating or anything." She said, still feeling a blush as she spoke. Percy noticed, frowning, but let his hands rest comfortably around her as he did.

"You have to watch your weight while you're pregnant?" Percy asked, and Annabeth couldn't decide between rolling her eyes and blushing harder. Instead, Annabeth ducked her head a bit lower, trying to hide. It was an innocent question… she hoped. It _was_ Percy, so she couldn't be sure. "But… It's like an _excuse_ to stuff your face. I'd eat _everything_ if I was pregnant."

Well, mystery solved.

"You eat everything anyways, and I didn't have much of an appetite during the first few months. And I still can't stand some things." Annabeth said, and when she knew she had his attention she pressed her back further into his front. "And, yes, if you eat too much it's bad for you. Big shocker." She said.

"I didn't really think of it that way." He admitted. "I just figured the baby would get bigger if you ate too much." Percy muttered into her hair, and Annabeth turned in his arms until she was facing him, a horrified expression on her face.

"And you _want_ me to push a four or five pound baby out of myself?" She said, trying to sound teasing. A few nasty images flashed into her mind, though.

Percy looked completely red. So bright he was probably giving himself a sunburn. "No!" He said, his voice cracking. His eyes grew comically wide. "That can't _actually_ happen, right?" He asked, his voice becoming quieter as he spoke.

Annabeth, now completely ignoring the movie, curled further into him. Her body was flush against his, and a yawn bubbled up from deep down her throat. She released her hot breath into Percy's neck. "You better hope not. Otherwise I'll never forgive you." She muttered, eyes fluttering closed.

…

Annabeth woke to arguing.

A few months ago, she would call that a normal occurrence. The Chase household wasn't a happy place, no matter how often her parents tried to beat it into her that they were happy. A lot of the time, Annabeth knew that her dad used her as a punching bag because he didn't think his wife would be able to stand it.

He was wrong to think that he could get away with it with Annabeth, but still.

Her stepmother was an angry, disrespecting, uncaring person. But only when Annabeth was involved. She adored, and even spoiled, Matthew and Bobby. It was one of the few reasons she felt comfortable leaving, knowing deep down that Helen wouldn't dare lay a hand on them, nor let her father even think about them as an outlet for his hatred.

And if it ever escalated, Annabeth had Matthew and Bobby on speed dial. There was no doubt in her mind they'd contact her if things got bad enough.

She wouldn't define the arguing going on in the kitchen as 'bad enough'. That didn't make it any better, though.

Unlike most arguing she'd been a part of, this wasn't yelling or screaming at one another. These were two people talking in sharp, hissing whispers. As Annabeth began her ascension back into consciousness, she could more so feel than hear the aggravation in the words from the room over. Without so much as shifting the blankets around her, Annabeth strained to hear the voices in the next room over.

"-Could you keep this from me?" Annabeth didn't immediately recognize the voice, though it seemed familiar. Gruff, stern, but something underneath that made her hands twitch in urgency. "This… this is beyond anything you've ever kept from me before. I thought we were past the distrusting one another phase."

"This just… wasn't how you were supposed to find out." Percy. She could hear the discomfort in his voice. She could imagine his hand running through his hair in nervous, anxious strokes. "Really, I swear I was going to tell you-"

"How long?"

Silence.

"How long has she been hiding under my nose? How long have you been keeping this hidden?" The voice asked, taking on a just as anxious, albeit much more angry, tone as he spoke. Annabeth chose to not rise then, wanting to hear what was being said. What _Percy_ said.

This had to be Paul Blofis. Percy's foster father.

"No one but Andrew knows, I swear. He's never gone behind my back." Percy said.

"He's never had a good enough _reason_ before, Percy-"

"We cut ties a few weeks ago. I trust him to keep his mouth shut." Percy said, and he spoke with such conviction that Annabeth could see his face hardening in resolve. The voice paused.

"How long have you known her? Who is she?" Paul asked, his voice weary. Annabeth heard a chair being pushed back, the legs scratching against the hardwood flooring. Had she been asleep before, she would've undoubtedly been aware of what was being discussed now. None of that mattered, however, when Percy began to speak again.

"Annabeth Chase. She was in my Mythology class until third term ended, remember?" He said, and Annabeth could hear something… funny in his words. It made her ears prick to attention. She wanted to memorize this response. "I'm certain Mr. Brunner talked about her a lot in the teacher's lounge. She was top of his class- probably the entire Senior class." He admitted.

Annabeth swears, her cheeks only color a little. And, no, her smile wasn't ear to ear, either.

The sigh that Mr. Blofis let out wasn't disappointing, per say… resigned was a better word. "When did…"

Now her cheeks were aflame. Judging by Percy's sudden change in tone, his were as well. "New Years Eve. The Stoll's party. We only really talked that night." He said, and Annabeth wished she could curl into a ball and go deaf. This was, without any doubt in her mind, worse than any 'sex talk' she could've been given with her own father. Listening to another adult- _Percy's Dad -_ ask about their sex life- nonexistent, by the way -was beyond cringe-worthy.

"And she figured it out and told you." He guessed.

His assumption was met with silence. Annabeth wished she could see their faces. After what felt like an eternity of empty stillness, Mr. Blofis spoke again. This time his voice was stressed, tense. "You offered her _money?"_

Annabeth winced. What a great first impression.

"I gave her an address and a date for her first checkup. We went and saw Andrew together the next week." Percy said. His tone was defensive, offended even. Annabeth felt something akin to gratitude seep into her chest. "We went to our last appointment a few weeks ago. She's due in September." He said.

"You should've gone to a _real_ doctor-"

"You know I can't." Percy said, and for a second Annabeth could hear a bitterness in his voice she could only ever compare to his telling of Gabe and his Mother, or the money he gathered to pay off the debts. It was a self-hatred that made her shiver.

"Does she know that?" He asked.

She could actually hear the fabric of his shirt scratch the back of his neck. That was how fast he must've nodded, how urgent it was to get that point across. "She knows. Everything with mom and Gabe… the stuff about Dad. She knows about all of it."

"Even Trey?" Asked Paul, his voice disbelieving.

Annabeth had never heard that name before, but something about it sounded… sinister. Perhaps it was the way that Paul didn't think Percy would share that information (Which was true) or the fact that she hadn't even heard the name in passing. She had heard a few curses thrown at a Zeke, and Anthony, and even a Helena. Not once had she heard of this… Trey.

Annabeth could feel a pair of eyes scan over her, just like in the alleyway two weeks ago, but the effect replacing cold with warmth. They raked over her body, sending a feeling of warmth through her that she was probably just imagining. Either way, it wasn't until the sensation had passed that Percy spoke again. "No. And I hope she never has to." He said.

It was quiet for a long time, and the only noises that Annabeth could hear were oddly domestic in nature. Opening and closing cupboards. Something dry being poured into a bowl followed by something liquid. It was a full fifteen minutes of Annabeth trying not to fidget, move, or breathe too loudly so as not to shatter the silence. The silence she needed _them_ to fill.

Another sigh, just as resigned and depressed as before. "How did her family take it?" He asked. Annabeth tensed, hoping Percy knew what she wanted him to say.

"She's been living with Grover and Juniper for the past few months. Her parents haven't even tried to call her." He said, genuine sadness leaking into his voice. Annabeth paused at that, but didn't acknowledge it until he finished. "I honestly don't think she wants them to talk with her, either way."

Another pause. She wondered if they were watching her, sizing her up. It was getting harder, pretending to be asleep when she felt so on edge and alert. "Do you know why?"

Percy didn't answer. Annabeth wished she could let out the breath she was holding. And she wished that they didn't have to talk about this certain subject while she was 'sleeping' on the couch just a few yards away from them. She didn't like being treated like she wasn't actually there.

"Yeah." He said. He didn't say anything else, like she had expected. He didn't elaborate. Paul obviously noticed.

"Was it bad for her, with her parents?" Paul asked. She didn't know if Percy nodded 'yes' or 'no', but he certainly didn't speak. Annabeth felt that thrill of… something going down her spine. It made her breath spike unnaturally, loud enough that they probably heard her. She covered for herself, turning in her 'sleep' and facing away from the kitchen like she had been earlier. She purposefully kept her breathing shallow.

It felt like an eternity before they started speaking again. "I should've taught you about the importance of protection."

"Seriously, this isn't the time to bring that up." Percy said, his voice going half an octave higher than his regular voice. Annabeth was glad she'd turned away, because her face would've given away her embarrassment immediately. "We… messed up. But we've both talked about it, and we're going to give it a shot." He paused. Annabeth felt that warmth digging into her back again. "I'm not leaving her."

And really, Annabeth felt her heart clench and her eyes moisten at the statement. She honestly wished she hadn't had to hear this obviously private conversation while pretending to be asleep. Meanwhile, Percy just kept going. "We had a bit of a rough patch a few weeks ago. We were really screaming at each other." He admitted. "But we got past it. _She_ got past _me."_ He said, and Annabeth knew exactly what he meant.

"Relationships are hard to keep, sometimes. Most guys date different women for years before even considering marriage, let alone a baby." Paul informed Percy. "And even then, there's never one ounce of surety that they aren't going to get sick of one another-"

"I-I know the risks. And the situation wasn't my first choice at being a dad, okay?" Percy said.

"I just don't want your hopes to get so high that you hurt yourself when you fall off-"

"I love her."

Annabeth's heart stopped. No one spoke for a long time. Or maybe it just seemed that way.

"And you've told her that?" Paul asked.

' _No,'_ Said the negative voice in the back of her head. ' _No, he's never even hinted at 'loving' you before. Besides, how could he know what love is? He's probably not talking about it in a romantic sense. Besides, it's not like you could love him back anyways. You've never even felt it before.'_

Annabeth started second guessing herself, but then a much louder voice cut in. " _Percy certainly isn't letting his head do the thinking for him. It's his heart, Annabeth. He's speaking directly from his HEART."_ Annabeth had never felt so assured in a single moment. Even though he hadn't said it to her face and she was pretending to be asleep on his living room couch, there was not a single ounce of doubt in her mind that _he loves her_ and gods- She wanted desperately to know in her own inner-turmoil that she felt the same. A tenth of what he felt for her would suffice.

Percy was speaking again. His words barely registered in her thought-jumbled head, but when she listened she wasn't disappointed by what she heard. "Annabeth likes to take things slow… which, yeah, makes sense because the first time we really met we went way too fast… So I'll wait. Until she's ready to hear it."

There was another long pause. "Do you think she'll ever say it back?" Paul asked, and in that moment Annabeth felt a true sense of respect for the man she only ever heard Percy talk about in passing. His voice, in almost every word he'd said to Percy was laced with concern. Concern towards Percy, his _son,_ and his future. Nothing accusing or angry, and only the smallest bit of disappointment. He wanted Percy to be happy.

As a person who rarely felt any love from a parent in her teen years, this was a real show of character. For _anyone_ who wanted and only wished happiness for another, this was something really powerful in Annabeth's mind.

"Honestly? I have no idea. But we've already gotten so far, and I feel like we're better off now than when we first met." His voice went to a soft whisper when he spoke again. "I hope she does, though. When she's ready to say it. When she actually feels it." Another pause. "Because it's getting really hard not to stutter every time she talks to me."

Annabeth hid a smile into the couch cushion.

Paul chuckled lightly, although she could still hear the stress underlining his tone. Annabeth bit her lip, somewhat stressed herself. Apparently, if she wanted to, Percy was willing to try… _them_ in the long run. Like… all the way. A family. Happily ever after. As long as she asked- no, _reached_ for it. As long as she put in the effort for the same goal.

Annabeth felt her lip curl into a determined line. She was already trying for a relationship with him. She supposed she could be more open-minded about it being long-term. And not just for their child. For her. For _them._

Just when the silence was becoming thick and unbearable, Annabeth heard a heavy ' _thud'_ of something bumping into something else, followed by someone standing. Judging by the over-exaggerated groan, she guessed it was Paul. "I want to meet her still." He said. Annabeth tensed.

She heard Percy's breath catch. "Like, right at this very moment, or...?" He began, and judging by his voice he too was apprehensive at the suggestion.

She didn't hear anything for a moment, and guessed that both men were looking right at her, thinking she was still asleep. She forced herself to breath normally. To not draw attention to herself.

"No." Paul said finally, making his way towards the two bedrooms down the hallway she could hear his voice as he travelled farther away. "I still need to be in Albany before the sun sets. It wouldn't be fair to my mother if I was late because of a pair of glasses and a talk about sex with my son and his girlfriend." He said pointedly. Annabeth felt her cheeks, again, color at the thought of being forced into a confrontation with this man at this very moment.

"I'll let her know, then." Percy said, his voice dry and relieved at the same time. Annabeth heard Paul walk all the way to the door. She heard it open and close slowly, as if trying to draw out the moment for as long as it possibly could. Finally, when the footsteps in the hallway receded past the point where Annabeth could hear them, she relaxed, just the slightest bit.

That left Percy.

If she was correct, he hadn't stood from his seat at the kitchen table. In fact, as Paul retreated down the hallway, she heard him release a breath she hadn't noticed he'd been holding. It was long and drawn out, closer to several relieved breaths than one single exhale. He sat at the table for a few minutes before standing.

He cleared the dishes of whatever it was they'd been for, the glass clinking against each other and the noise of something else being washed down the drain. The dishwasher was opened and closed just fast enough that it sounded like one motion. Then, she heard him walk towards the couch. She felt rather than heard him sit beside her, the couch giving way beneath him and moving her back until they were just barely touching. She could feel the warmth of his skin seep into her shirt.

Then he turned on the TV and started watching _Finding Nemo_ from where they'd left off.

She would've rolled her eyes if her smile hadn't already started to show her endearment of his stupidity.

…

"Annabeth. Annabeth, wake up." Came Percy's voice, rousing her from her sleep. She could feel him starting to sit her up, his hands warm against her bare arms. She hummed in response to his words, but didn't offer him any real reply. Instead, she ran her hand through her messy curls, laying her back against the cushion and opening her eyes slowly. Percy's thumb moved against her arm in slow circles, giving her goosebumps.

"Annabeth, it's time for you to go home. It's late." He said, his voice quiet. Annabeth smiled, remembering the last time he had been whispering. His eyes were really wide, and his messy hair was looking especially _soft_ right then- No joke, Annabeth wanted to run her hand through his hair and push him against the throw pillows and-

Instead, Annabeth gave him a full, toothy smile and reached a hand out to cup his cheek. It was really, _really_ warm. "Hey." She said, sleep still clouding her voice.

His eyes, wide before, were the size of saucers now. The pupils were really big, too, but all Annabeth could focus on was how _green_ they looked. How _bright_ they were when she rubbed her thumb against his skin. His fingers on her arms froze, but she didn't care. Instead, she pulled herself up until her nose was just shy of an inch away from his own. She hummed again when she saw his eyes slip to her lips.

A few seconds passed before he spoke again, and not before gulping. "It's seven. You've been sleeping for five hours now. I was thinking that we go get dinner and then I drop you off at Juniper's?" He asked, blinking rapidly. He looked like he was trying really hard to focus. He got the same look whenever she was helping him with his homework.

Annabeth almost whined at the thought of having to get up and leave. Instead, she found herself wrapping her arms around his middle, pulling him closer. The inch between them dissolved, replaced with their foreheads touching against one another. His breath fanned across her face, making her feel dizzy. She hummed again, this time in bliss. Still, she didn't say a word.

Percy didn't complain when she pulled him closer. In fact, he nearly placed her in his lap, bringing her legs up and over his own and effectively sending tingles all through Annabeth's legs. Every nerve was on fire. Every miniscule movement made her breath catch in her throat.

"Hey." She repeated, pressing even closer, stomach-arms-chest connecting. She stared directly into his eyes, getting lost in the pools of color. It was like diving into an ocean, but she could _breath._ She could breath easier in his eyes than anywhere else. "I really, _really_ like you. You know that, right?" She said.

Percy nodded, though his expression was particularly confused. " _What else is new?"_ the same voice as before asked. The… 'positive' voice, so to speak. Or rather, it didn't. Either way, She put her lips just up to his- not kissing, but it they were undeniably touching. His touch there was tantalizing. Teasing, even. "And you know that what brought us together- how we met -doesn't define why I feel the way that I do, right?" She clarified.

Something in Percy's eyes started to gleam, and it almost made Annabeth lose track of what she was thinking about completely. It almost made her succumb to her instinct to smash her lips against his and forget about what she was talking about. But no, she wanted him to hear this. To remember it. To remember _exactly_ what she was saying to him in that moment. When he nodded, her smile pressed against his own.

"Good." She breathed.

 _Then_ she smashed her lips against his.

Nothing before counted. No makeout compared- even were brought to mind -when she started to hurriedly move her lips against his. It wasn't sweet, like their first kiss in the diner. This was passionate- this was _raw._ Annabeth had her hands running through his hair (it was better than she had suspected). His were running down her arms, to her hips, to her hair, and repeated as they began to really… go at it.

Annabeth didn't know how long it lasted, or what exactly transpired during the time they were lip-locked, but when Annabeth finally felt him push away for a breath of air, she could see that she was no longer in his lap. His back was on the couch, his head resting on a pillow. She was above him, lying directly on top of him. His hands rested against her hips, and hers were propping herself up on his chest.

She let him regain his breath, her own coming out in a raspy gasp. Her chest was heaving, but all she could see were how his eyes were half-lidded, just like their first kiss at the diner. Annabeth would never tell him, but he'd gotten better at not drifting off after they broke away from a kiss. Now, all of his progress had been thrown through the window. She couldn't find it in herself to care.

And then, they started all over again.

It wasn't until Annabeth finally broke away first that she declared it to be over (for the moment). She pressed her cheek against his collarbone, her head tucked just underneath his chin and her hair probably all over his face. She relished in the feeling of his hands still wrapped around her waist. She kept her own hands resting over his heart. It was beating quite erratically, she noticed. His chest heaved under her.

"Woah." He finally said, his voice hoarse and small. Annabeth laughed loudly, but didn't correct him. She couldn't even find it in herself to speak. It took a few minutes for them to both calm down before either of them spoke again. "Can we do that again?" Percy asked, eyes still towards the ceiling.

Annabeth smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to Percy's throat. She could hear his chest rumbling, a noise coming out of his throat that reminded her of a skittish horse. After pulling away, she turned on her side, hand still over his heart. She adjusted herself until she was comfortable, resting perfectly molded into his side. He turned on his side as well, facing her. His arms still rested on her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her baby bump pressed right up against his abs.

"You better plan on it." Annabeth said, resting her head against his chest. She could hear his loud laugh all the way in his belly.

And then she felt something hit against _her_ belly.

Annabeth physically froze, her eyes going wide and her breath hitching. Percy noticed, craning his neck to look down at her, but she wasn't looking at him. She didn't dare move, in fear that this was another trick of her imagination.

Percy was getting worried. She was as stiff as a board against him. He pulled her closer, trying to coax a reaction from her. "Hey, is everything alri-" He stopped mid-sentence, his face first morphing into confusion, then widening as he felt it again. Confirmation that Annabeth wasn't going crazy.

"Was that a-" He began, but she cut him off.

"A kick." Annabeth confirmed, near speechless. Her mouth was wide open in astonishment, refusing to close. Their eyes connected, and Annabeth looked up at her boyfriend in wonder. "She just kicked." Annabeth said, her mouth finally melting into a smile. Percy returned it, feeling every kick against her stomach, as his was pressed up against it.

They stared at one another until finally Annabeth felt a few tears leaving her eyes. She tucked her head back under his chin, pulling herself closer. "We just felt our baby kick for the first time." Annabeth said, awestruck.

Percy's arms tightened around her. His voice was a whisper when he spoke. "Right after making out for the first time, too. That's, like, bonus points, right?"

Annabeth told him to shut up, but folded into him again when he kissed her again.

* * *

 **You know, I'm slowly realizing just how sappy this all is, reading it back. I'm becoming pretty hopeless, huh?**

 **Read, Review, Follow, and Favorite!**

 **LHG :)**


	13. Twenty Three Weeks

**Annabeth:**

 _(Twenty Three Weeks)_

"So, Mr. Brunner told me a lot about you, Annabeth."

Annabeth tried not to blush, she swears. It's just a little hard to when she's talking to her boyfriend's foster father and obviously pregnant. Especially when no one was really acknowledging that fact. Really, the fact that Mr. Brunner told stories about her to the man in front of her were far from important when compared.

"All good things, right?" She asked weakly, her voice coming out small. Percy noticed, his elbow connecting with hers under the table. It was a weird, but effective, gesture. She wondered how he did that, but then quickly turned her full attention back to Mr. Blofis.

Pretending to be angry had been impossible, but she didn't dare tell Percy that she had been awake during their conversation. If anything, Annabeth had made that a last resort. She had been, for the past two weeks, trying to sort out her own emotions over the subject. It was just… hard. It was hard to admit it that she loved Percy. She'd settled with acting resigned when Percy brought it up, as if knowing it was inevitable she'd meet him.

She just didn't know. Love was such a foreign concept when it came to her. Not that she didn't know how to love. She loved her brothers, and her breakup with Luke wouldn't have hurt so much if she hadn't loved him at some point. Thalia and Piper and Hazel- she loved them like sisters. They meant so much to her.

But, oddly enough, she couldn't describe what she felt with Percy.

She wanted him safe. Ever since she'd had to bandage his stab wound, she had grown fiercely protective of him. She found herself texting him as often as she did her brothers, asking how he was doing. If he was okay. He had joked once that he felt like he was being stalked by his doctor. She still wasn't satisfied.

She liked being with him. Talking with him. Spending time with him. Whether they were studying for finals at school (which had finally passed) or watching a movie, Annabeth couldn't deny how happy she felt tucked into his side.

She liked it when his hand grazed her back as he led her through a door. She liked the way his arms circled around her waist when they walked together. She liked how he insisted that she picks what they do half of the time, and never questions whatever it might be (unless he doesn't know, of course). She liked waking up beside him after a nap, his breath tickling her neck. She liked the way his eyebrows scrunched together when he was concerned.

And the kissing…

Annabeth _was_ interested. She wanted the relationship, she wanted him and her to be _them._ The whole nine yards, too- she wanted to reach for it. She wanted to be with him. To have their daughter and wake up beside him every morning and even put up with his drool. She wanted to go to school, yeah, but when she came home she didn't want the apartment, house, or dorm room to be empty.

But was that love?

Annabeth didn't know. When she tried to say it out loud in front of the mirror, she couldn't do it. So maybe she wasn't. But she'd work at it.

"All good things." Paul confirmed, his tone even sounding pleased. Annabeth hoped that her favorite teacher didn't say anything too noteworthy. If they got into a discussion about how Mr. Brunner had thought 'Ms. Chase could do no wrong,' Annabeth wouldn't be able to look Mr. Blofis in the eye. "He said that he was very intrigued by your sudden disappearance." He said.

Annabeth wondered if _any_ subject revolving around her would make her feel comfortable. Probably not, considering she had nothing to discuss. "I miss the class." Annabeth admitted, picking at her food. It was Percy's idea to make it a dinner discussion- though, thinking about it, almost every plan he had involved food. "I've always had an interest in the subject."

Paul, who had barely eaten a bite, gave her a small smile. "It's a very interesting elective choice. Percy took it with you, didn't he?" He asked, and Annabeth nodded. "It was one of the few classes that he wasn't failing, you know."

Percy, who had been eating measured bites of his food, swallowed and smiled at Paul. "You can thank Annabeth for my most recent grade point average. She's a really good tutor." He said, and Annabeth felt her blush creeping up her neck and onto her face. It seems that, even after telling Percy to keep the praise to a minimum, he was going to worship the ground she walked on. With his foster father right in front of him.

"A miracle in itself." Mr. Blofis- _Call me Paul, Annabeth -_ said dryly. Percy rolled his eyes, but still ate his spaghetti like he had been starved for the last week. Annabeth weakly pushed a meatball around the pasta, but didn't eat it. Her stomach was turning violently. "No doubt, Percy told you all about his past experiences with school." He said, and Annabeth's lips twitched when she saw Percy's cheeks turn scarlet.

"Only that he's been kicked out of a few." She said, remembering how he'd told her it was mostly done intentionally, so as to visit his mother. Still, Percy wasn't eating as fast, actually listening. She wondered, briefly, if he'd left something out.

"Did he ever tell you about the shark tank?"

Percy's fork fell against his plate as he stopped eating and looked between her and Paul with wide eyes and red cheeks. "Okay, let's change the subject, like, right now." His voice took on a strange, slightly panicked tone. "She doesn't need to know about that." He said, and Annabeth couldn't stop the small smile from forming.

"Now hold on there, champ." Paul said, his eyebrows raising. "You've been seeing Annabeth since February and _haven't_ told her about how you got kicked out?" He said, a smile stretching across his face as well. Annabeth saw Percy's pleading gaze try to pierce through her.

She didn't so much as bat an eye. "No, he hasn't really talked to me about it at all." She said, and Paul returned the smile that she was giving him. They exchanged conspiratorial glances before looking back towards Percy. He looked miserably between the two of them. "What's the story about the shark tank?" She asked.

They got along well after that.

…

Annabeth was trying really hard not to laugh after hearing about some of the things Percy had done in order to get out of school. And after hearing only a handful of them, Annabeth could also confirm this: not all of them had been intentional at the time.

Paul was currently leaning forward over the table, his elbows placed far apart as he pointed at certain parts of the table as he explained the story. "-and so when he pulled the cord, the cannon ball flew over the entire field- an incredibly accurate shot -and somehow managed to hit the bus dead center." He said, pointing with his fork at the salt shaker. Percy, for his part, had pushed his uneaten food away so he could rest his head against the table. No doubt hiding his shame.

"Why would they ever load a _live shot_ into a civil war replica?" Annabeth asked, completely wrapped into the third story of Percy Jackson's infamous expulsions. She needed to stop hearing these stories, otherwise she might pee herself laughing. Paul told them so animatedly, using his arms and explaining all the little details whenever Annabeth asked.

Paul's smile widened. "This particular cannon- out of all the others -had been used the day before for target practice for their annual reenactment." He explained. "Somehow, they must've forgotten that it was still loaded."

Percy groaned under his arms, making the situation ten times better. Annabeth put a reassuring hand on his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades gently. "On the bright side, none of the actors were blown up that year by a loaded cannon." She said, trying to make the situation better for him (while teasing him, of course). Percy tightened his arms around his face, retreating further into himself.

Paul laughed and Annabeth found herself laughing along with him. Somehow, this situation had become much less awkward after just a few stories. Annabeth was feeling beyond relieved, glad that this night was taking such a drastic turn to what she had imagined it was going towards before.

"I had no idea Percy was such a troublemaker." Annabeth admitted, looking over at his hunched figure and smiling. "You'd have thought he would've learned from the first few times, don't you think?" She said, still rubbing his shoulder blades. Paul shook his head in befuddlement, but still smiled.

"He truly has a gift." He said, leading to another groan from the teen and another round of laughter between the other two. Finally, Paul saw the clock on the oven and stood. "Well, dinner was good, but I think the couches in the living room would be better, wouldn't you agree?" He asked. Annabeth nodded, standing as well.

Percy didn't stand (probably still waiting for his face to return to it's original color). Paul sent Annabeth another conspiratorial smile. "Percy, why don't you do the dishes while you compose yourself? Annabeth and I will wait for you in the living room." He said, and Annabeth watched as Percy stood to do as he was told (his cheeks were still red).

When Annabeth and Paul took their seats across from one another in the living room, she felt something… different from dinner wash over her. Nothing hostile, but it still made her feel unsettled. Paul checked that Percy was still doing the dishes before turning back to Annabeth.

"I'm glad to see Percy so happy." Paul admitted to her, his voice quiet. Annabeth didn't need to be a genius to know where this was going. She rolled her shoulders in anticipation for the serious part of their conversation. "He wasn't very happy, when he was younger. And I've tried everything to give him a better life." Paul said.

He did something then that Annabeth would've never imagined, something she hadn't been prepared for. He looked at her with an expression of awe. "But I don't think I've ever seen him smile so much since he started bringing you by." He said.

Annabeth spoke quietly as well, though she had to take a moment to compose herself. "I can't say I'm the only reason. Finals are over now…" She trailed off at his knowing look. She remembered then that _she_ had been the one to study with him. To talk with him about his grades and turn them around. Paul obviously knew as much.

"Honestly, good grades aren't as important to me as his happiness. He's happy. I want to thank you for that." He said. Annabeth was left speechless. "I don't know how much you know about his childhood…" He trailed off, letting Annabeth answer. She could only nod, and Paul's shoulders seemed to relax. "He was in a bad place. With the death of his mother and being put into a boys home, he didn't have much incentive to trust me." Paul admitted.

"He's very much his mother's son. I don't think he's told you this, but I actually dated his mother briefly in high school. Sally's pregnancy was a very big deal for many people, her uncle included. He was very disappointed in her." He said.

Annabeth thought of her parents. How her mother, whom she hadn't seen since she was three, might've reacted to the news. No doubt, she would've been thrown out without much of a second thought. She took a shaky breath, clutching onto the couch pillow beside her. Paul waited until she met his eyes again.

"I want you to know that there isn't any way you could disappoint me. Neither could Percy. You seem to have a good head on your shoulders, and from what Percy's told me you have ambition." He said. "If he had brought any other girl here tonight, I would've been worried." He said. "But after meeting you tonight, I couldn't think of anyone else who could keep Percy out of trouble." He said, smiling again.

Annabeth's returning smile was wavering, at best. She took a deep breath, casting a glance at the boy currently washing dishes and placing them in the dishwasher. Just the mere sight of him made her feel a bit better. "I never saw me doing anything like this." She admitted. "And I honestly knew nothing about him when we… you know." She blushed, looking down. "But I'm glad, knowing that he's here for me when I need him. I'm… so relieved that he's here." She said.

"I want you to know, if you need anything, you're always welcome to talk to me." He said. Annabeth felt a wave of emotion flow through her body and get lodged in her throat. She tried, multiple times, to verbally thank him for something she hadn't even realized she wanted. Her eyes started to tear up, and she started to wipe them away with her thumb.

It was such a relief, knowing that someone with experience was on their side. That she could always have someone there, not just for her. Percy and her… they were _teens._ No amount of research would be able to prepare them for raising a child. And the fact that it was a parent, one of the few people she thought would feel obliged to help, made her feel like everything would somehow work.

Before she could speak, Percy entered the room. His face was finally its normal shade of tan, though he was pouting lightly. He didn't hesitate to jump onto the couch beside her, giving her a quick peck on the cheek in the process. "Whatcha talking about now?" He asked, looking between the two of them.

Paul's expression became conspiratory again. Annabeth would remember it better than his smile if he kept looking at her like that. "I don't think we got around to the story of the exploding dodgeball, did we Annabeth?"

Percy's face turned red again. Annabeth could only smile endearingly at him as Paul started the story.

…

"You're never talking to him ever again." Percy said, hands white on the steering wheel and eyes pointed straight ahead. Annabeth smiled, reaching over the middle console to tuck a lock of hair that was sticking up behind his ear. She heard his breath sharpen as she did.

Dinner had been a success. Annabeth and Paul had spoken with one another for over an hour, recounting stories about Percy (though Paul was doing most of the talking). It had been laugh-inducing, and eventually Annabeth had had to excuse herself to the restroom just so she could catch her breath.

Percy, for his part, had spent much of the visit blushing. To Annabeth, that was a solid achievement. His banter, she noticed, wasn't like him speaking with Andrew. It wasn't forced pleasantries, and it was much more detailed in regards to stories and memories. Percy seemed to really hold Paul on a pedestal when it came to family.

It just made her feel more relieved, knowing she'd made a good impression.

"I don't know. You said that if we had any problems we would call him first." She reminded him, reminiscing back to that night in the diner. She ignored the evening's later encounters, focusing on the leather seats and warm breeze that made the night so special. She'd bring the kiss back to her mind when they got back to Juniper's.

Percy grunted, the streetlights continually throwing shadows over his face. She was pretty sure she'd seen his lip upturn. "I like your idea better. Let's just move somewhere really, really far away and secluded and never talk to anyone else ever again." He said, shrugging back his shoulders. Annabeth curled further into her seat, a winsome smile touching her lips.

"Maybe a few hours ago. But now that I've met him, I think it's safe to assume he's going on speed dial." She said, already mentally noting that she needed to steal his number off of Percy's phone. She took a moment to look out of the window at the buildings that were just peeking out from ground level. She marveled at the lights in the windows, making it all look like some sort of abstract painting.

"So you liked him, then." Percy said, and Annabeth noticed the relieved tone in his voice. She turned to him, giving him a big smile.

"He was nice. And we didn't really have to talk about…" She trailed off, gesturing to her abdomen. Percy let out a breath, his whole body rolling with the motion. She berated him for not paying attention to the road, but he gave her a lopsided smile in return.

"I was worried it was going to be one big awkward silence." He admitted, turning left and getting onto the bridge on ramp. He was met with a symphony of car horns from the cars already trying to merge onto the bridge. "I can't say that I liked what you two were talking about too much, though." He said.

Annabeth looked out over the water as they went over the bridge, the dark mass stretching farther than the mist would allow her to see. She thought of how the night _could've_ gone- it was something she'd completely avoided when she learned she'd be meeting Percy's foster father. Awkward silences, awkward glances- the idea made her shudder. That would've been awful. "Better than the alternative." She agreed.

It took another forty-five minutes before the two of them reached the quiet neighborhood that Juniper's flowershop rested on. His car pulled onto the curb near silent, the noise of the engine purring barely noticeable among the stillness. Percy helped her out of the car, offering her his hand to her. She pulled him along, towards the stairs leading up to the apartment.

"I had fun tonight." Annabeth said, putting her arms around his neck and smiling coyly at him. He responded in kind, wrapping his arms around her waist. It was the only time Annabeth wished she had a flat stomach again, so she could be closer to him.

"At my expense." He said, pretending to be annoyed. He smiled endearingly at her, his eyes softening as he did. Annabeth only nodded, her own lips softening under his gaze. They both started getting closer to one another, necks craning to accommodate for the other.

"Naturally." She responded in a whisper, her own breath reflecting against his lips and returning to hers. Their lips were inches away from connecting. "You just make it too easy." She said.

They were kissing again, lips pressed softly together and moving in sync as they continued to tug one another closer. Annabeth felt his calloused hand cup the back of her neck while the other pressed against the small of her back, riding up her sweater in the process. She had her hands down at his sides, pulling on the fabric of his shirt to bring him closer to her.

When Percy began to pull away, Annabeth made a small whining noise in the back of her throat that brought him right back to her. She gasped lightly when his hand went beneath her shirt to touch the small of her back directly. The warmth from his palm flooded over her cold back and left goosebumps in their wake. She pulled herself even closer, though it was uncomfortable.

When Annabeth was left breathless and almost light-headed, she had to pull back and stop him from trying to close the distance between the two of them. His breath mixed with hers as they both tried to calm themselves down, foreheads resting against one another's. When she looked back up into his eyes, her heart leapt all the way into her esophagus. His eyes were clouded over with adoration. It was starting to become too much for Annabeth.

"How angry would Paul be if you didn't come home tonight?" She asked, pulling away until only their hands were connected. She played with his fingers, waiting for an answer that she didn't think he could bring up while his mind was still catching up. Annabeth pressed a kiss to his cheek that seemed to jumpstart him. His eyes blinked rapidly and he started to stutter out an answer.

"He wouldn't be angry. He's got a- a thing. Tomorrow. At school." He said unconvincingly. Annabeth raised an eyebrow, analyzing the way that his nose twitched and forehead seemed to droop low over his eyes. She became skeptical.

"Are you sure about that?" She asked. When he stopped blinking at her and shook his head to clear his thoughts, he spoke again.

"Positive." He said, then suddenly looked nervous. "But, I mean, Grover and Juniper are still here tonight-" Annabeth stopped him by putting a finger up to his lips. She then used the same finger to flick his forehead. "Ouch." He said, rubbing at the spot she'd hit. She rolled her eyes.

"Keep your shirt tucked in, Jackson. I'm tired, and I'm sure you can wake up early tomorrow to get to school on time." She said, letting one hand go so as to turn the door handle. Lucky for her it was unlocked, opening smoothly and letting her glimpse into the dark kitchen. Juniper and Grover must've gone to bed early. "Just be quiet." She warned, leading him deeper into the apartment.

They both silently removed their shoes, padding around on the tile in their socks until they reached the carpeted hallway. Annabeth tightened her hold on his hand in the dark, as if to keep him from slipping away from her. When they reached her room, she made sure to turn the knob slowly and carefully, trying not to wake the couple two doors down and across the hall.

Only after they had closed the door did Annabeth feel satisfied that the walls would muffle any noise they made well enough to keep the Underwood's from waking. She walked all the way to her nightstand with Percy in tow, turning on the lamp on her nightstand and letting the small, soft glow illuminate her room. Percy sat on her bed, looking much more tired than he had been a few minutes ago.

Annabeth changed quickly (after threatening Percy a few times with castration should she catch him peeking) out of her jeans and sweater and into a pair of basketball shorts and a sweatshirt. Only after she was done did she sit on the edge of her own bed and tell Percy he could open his eyes.

Getting situated was a bit more of a challenge than Annabeth had anticipated, which was strange considering how they'd been in this position before. Percy's back kept bumping into the wall behind him, his shoulderblades making loud _thumps_ with each movement. Annabeth's stomach was half off of the bed, hanging in open air. They constantly shifted, moving closer and closer while trying not to suffocate one another.

Finally, Annabeth ended up with her back pressed into his front, her head tucked under his chin and his arms resting in the front pocket of her sweatshirt. She sighed, completely content with the position she was in. His hands were warm, leaching through her clothes and spreading through her body like a heater. She snuggled closer, entangling their legs and reaching into her sweatshirt pocket to grab onto his hands.

In the dark, under the covers and her back safely nestled into Percy's front, she fell asleep.

…

The next morning, Annabeth did not sleep in.

Her guest room was windowless, sadly. It was one of the few complaints she had later, after the paranoia of being found by… whoever might want to hurt her had subsided. She enjoyed the natural light that poured into the kitchen through the small window above the sink, and the only other window in the washroom, overlooking the alleyway. She wished she could wake up to light against her face, like her old room.

Instead, Annabeth woke to the sound of her lamp being turned on.

It wasn't really so much as she woke up, but more she heard a very a distinct, audible _click_ from the bedside lamp on her nightstand. The light tugged at her mind, pulling her out of sleep gradually, not all at once. Her eyes remained closed, but her ears comprehended a few basic noises. The creaking of her bed. The sound of ruffling hair. A loud, almost comical yawn.

Annabeth, as any normal person woken up when they didn't wish to be would do, mumbled an incoherent threat to whoever may have just woken her from peaceful slumber and turned over in her sleep. Her sweatshirt had ridden up in the night, so therefore the covers and sheets pressed against her baby bump. Her hands fisted the sheets beside her, the leftover warmth causing her to hum in satisfaction. Her hair tickled her nose gently, making her to blow it aside.

Now, over the course of a few minutes, Annabeth began to regain coherence. Her eyes opened slowly, taking in the dull, bland beige color of the wall directly in front of her. The striped green and white sheets that were currently clutched in Annabeth's closed fist. Her left foot was cold, so she moved it closer to her right. The covers around her were shifting.

"Percy?" She murmured, taking a deep breath through her nose and turning over again as she spoke. Her open hand went down to her stomach, re-covering it in her sweatshirt. Her wild curls were spread out around the pillow, and she was forced to clear the excess hair away in order to settle back comfortably.

Her gaze settled on her alarm clock and lamp, which was still currently on. Bright green, boxy numbers flashed back at her and stood out against the bright yellow glow of her lamp. _5:27._ Annabeth mentally went through a checklist of possible reasons she might need to be awake, but found none. She craned her neck down, looking to see if a certain individual might possibly still be in the room.

He sat at the foot of her bed, hunched over and back to her. His dark t-shirt had ridden up as well sometime after waking up, and Annabeth's eyes wandered to the the strip of tan skin sticking out against his dark shirt. The grey band of his boxers was just visible, barely sticking out. His hair was a wild mess, obviously in need of a comb. Annabeth admitted to herself that she was probably as much to blame for that as sleep was.

He seemed to be still, not moving much. He could've been putting his socks back on, which would mean he'd be getting up to leave in a few minutes. Annabeth did the math in her head: if Percy wanted to be to school on time, he'd need to leave in the next five or six minutes.

Annabeth sat herself up slowly, putting an arm behind her to steady her rise. She scooted closer to him, though he didn't seem to hear her. Her arms wrapped around his stomach, smoothing out his shirt and pulling it down to cover his back fully. Annabeth rested her cheek between his shoulderblades, debating what to say to get him to stay for a few hours longer.

Probably just asking. Probably just _mentioning_ the idea of sleep to him. Annabeth rubbed her cheek tiredly against his back, nuzzling up to him and humming when his warmth seeped into her skin. Her hands interlocked around his midriff, keeping him in place. She couldn't really do that to him- Paul would notice, and he'd been getting so much better in his classes. He should go, and it shouldn't be her holding him back.

"Good morning." She said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. She rested her head, closing her eyes fully and listening to his heart beating underneath her ear. The rhythm was soothing, soft and melodious, already lulling her back to sleep. "You heading out soon?" She asked, subconsciously loosening her hold on him. She could hear him sigh quietly in content, grabbing her hands in his own. She shivered at the feeling of his warm calloused hands encircling her own.

"Yeah." He whispered, as unwilling to break the silence as she was. She could feel him turning in her grip, forcing her head to raise up and remain upright while her hands shifted from his stomach to his side. She could just barely- probably her imagination, really -feel the scarred bump where the nail, or screw, or whatever, had stabbed him. Her hand shifted to his hip, and she could see that he still had a sock in one of his hands. With the other, he brought it up and placed it gently on the back of her neck. "You should go back to sleep for a few hours."

"You should go back to sleep with me." She muttered, frowning ad completely throwing her own mental debate out the window for selfish desire to voice its opinion. Annabeth looked up into his eyes to see light bruises under them. She put her chin on his shoulder, his lips almost pressing against her forehead. When he closed the gap, she sighed in bliss.

"Can I?" He asked, his soft voice nearly a pleading whimper. Annabeth smiled, leaning back and resting her weight onto her arms, effectively letting him go. She gave him a small smile, her gaze settling against his own. His eyes were glassy, half lidded and out of focus when she noticed that he didn't seem all there.

Her good, carefree mood suddenly became serious and worrisome. She frowned, bringing her legs up and under her so she could look at him better. She crawled on her knees backwards a bit to look at him, grabbing his face and tilting his head into the light. Her frown started to crease her forehead and her lips pursed when she saw that the bags under his eyes were much darker than she'd first observed.

"Something on my face?" Percy asked, and Annabeth realized that his voice wasn't soft because he wanted it to be- he couldn't bring himself to do anything more than mutter. She put her palm against his forehead but found his temperature to be normal- cool, even. She worriedly ran her hand through his hair while she thought. He leaned into the touch, eyes dropping until they were closed.

"Percy… you're exhausted." She said, the answer still unclear. His eyes opened, blinking slowly at her as he turned back to his socks. He raised his foot up, already going to put his other sock on. She put her hand over his to stop him. "Percy- driving drowsy is a horrible idea." She advised, already lightly tugging at his shirt. "C'mon. You're already done with finals. A personal health day isn't going to kill you."

Percy weakly tore himself from her grip. His eyes sparked with something close to annoyance, but it was dull and diluted against the haze of sleep deprivation that obviously shrouded his mind. When he spoke of how he was fine, it wasn't convincing. "I'll be fine. I just don't sleep well when I'm not at home." He said, shrugging off her worry. "I just need some cold water or something-" He trailed off, nearly falling off of the bed. Annabeth barely caught him.

When she straightened him up, he almost immediately started to fall over again. She settled with sitting cross-legged on the bed with his head in her lap. His eyes were struggling to open, but Annabeth seriously doubted that he'd wake up for a few hours. She sighed, leaning over towards the nightstand and shutting off the light. Another few hours wouldn't be that bad.

Annabeth awkwardly shuffled around, trying to get comfortable and not accidentally wake Percy. She straightened out her legs, leaning back until her back was against the headboard and her arms settled on Percy's forehead. She frowned, feeling the sweat that was stuck to his forehead. She wrinkled her nose at the feeling, but ultimately felt a wave of confusion sweep over her.

She tugged lightly at his hair, deep in thought. Her fingers traced his eyelids, trying to recall how bad the bags under his eyes had been when the light had been on. They'd seemed to stretch pretty far down…

Percy shifted under her, turning onto his side so sharply she was convinced he must be awake. He muttered something rather loudly, but then ended up nuzzling his face into Annabeth's side. His hands fisted her shirt, wrapping around the fabric almost desperately. Annabeth, now a bit less worried about waking him, started to scoot lower and lower until her head actually rested on the pillow. Percy curled further into her side.

Annabeth bit her lip, still trying to understand why Percy looking so exhausted was affecting her so strongly. She turned onto her side as well, facing Percy. Her stomach pressed into his nose, and Annabeth could feel how cold it was through the fabric of her sweatshirt. Annabeth shivered, realizing that the covers were still either under them or tossed onto the floor. She had to wrestle a corner out from underneath Percy but eventually pulled the blanket over the both of them.

He turned again, sharper this time, his voice almost rising into a shout before becoming silent again. Annabeth nearly jumped at the feeling of his hands going up under her shirt, cupping her abdomen. She blushed, grabbing onto his hands (which were warm, by the way,) and making sure they didn't wander any further up. He settled again, pulling himself closer until his chin was resting against her shoulder. His nose poked Annabeth's collarbone.

Even in the dark, Annabeth could see Percy was having some sort of nightmare. The way his eyes were pinched shut, the sudden hitch in his breath as it scratched against her neck and the feeling of his hands tensing against her stomach were clear indication for her. He kept muttering every once in awhile, sometimes pulling himself closer or pulling _her_ into _him._ At one point his arms circled her waist, pulling her into him and morphing her body around his own.

Annabeth frowned at every tug, repositioning herself so she was comfortable only for him to move again. Eventually, she had his head resting right against hers, his breath blowing in her face (he must've brushed his teeth in the bathroom before returning to the bedroom) and his hands in hers, against her thigh. Her eyes were threatening to fall closed, but another part of her kept getting jump started every time Percy moved.

Without warning Percy sat up straight, gasping for breath. Startled, Annabeth immediately sat up as well, reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp. The dull _click_ was instantly followed by Annabeth having to duck as Percy's open hand flew over her and slammed into the source of light. Annabeth yelped, her face going pale when her lamp turned off, obviously by unconventional means (she was pretty sure the bulb had just been smashed).

"Percy!" She whispered urgently, already taking his forearm into her hands. She felt frazzled, and any part of her that had been tired before was now instantly on alert. She shook his arm slightly, trying to figure out what was happening. His breathing was coming out in horrible gasps.

"Please." He whispered in a strained voice. He shook himself from Annabeth's grip, curling himself in the corner of the bed with his hands crossed over his face. One of his hands was pressing against his side, trying to quell whatever pain he was suddenly experiencing. He gasped suddenly, straightening his legs out and grasping his right thigh. "Please, don't-" He cut himself off, gasping again.

Annabeth made the connection almost immediately. The images of Percy's bruised and beaten legs, the wound in his side, flooded her mind as he clutched at the phantom pains. Her reaction, however, was slow. She sat in complete shock, watching as Percy appeared to go through receiving the same pain, right in front of her.

"Please, stop- Tr- Tr-" Percy tried to say. His eyes were screwed so tightly shut, Annabeth doubted he was aware he _wasn't_ being beaten. Tears slid down his face, silver and glistening as they reached his chin and fell onto his shirt. He tried to curl his legs back, but stopped himself.

His cry for help finally registered. Annabeth jumped into action, reaching out with both of her hands and taking Percy's in her own. Annabeth had never dealt with anyone having a panic attack before, but she needed to stop Percy from accidentally hurting herself.

And she needed him to stop. She needed him to stop hurting.

"Percy!" She whispered again, trying to keep his hands in her own. He kept trying to pull away, but he seemed to lack the strength. She laced their fingers together, using their conjoined hands as leverage to pull herself closer. Her leg brushed against Percy's thigh and he gasped again, as if her touch burned. "Percy!" She tried again, but he acted as if he didn't hear her.

She pulled herself closer, but he kept pushing her away. Even worse, if she got too close or touched him anywhere near where he'd been hurting (which, to her great astonishment, appeared to be everywhere), he'd start to shake and tremble under her. Her hand almost touched his side and he started yelping.

This wasn't working. Annabeth kept her hands interlocked with his, but otherwise she pulled away. He continued to shake and gasp, and it appeared to her that he wasn't going to get any better unless she figured out a way to help him. Her chest was starting to ache horribly and a lump was forming in her throat. She could feel the tears starting to burn behind her eyes.

Annabeth felt helpless. Completely and irrevocably useless when it was becoming clear that she might not be able to help him. She considered calling for Grover and Juniper, because surely they might know what to do. Or if that didn't work, Paul was just a call away. She just needed to-

" _No. NO. He needs YOU, not Paul. Percy needs you. You need to be the one to get him through this."_ Something argued inside of Annabeth, causing her lump to slide down her throat and her panic to slowly subside. She wanted to second guess herself because there were better people to help, but the voice- the _instinct_ -from before pushed back, screaming at her to think.

If there was anything she was good at, it was thinking.

Annabeth steeled herself, trying to remember in Hazel had to study anything regarding panic attacks. She couldn't really remember much, but Annabeth was vaguely aware of moving towards Percy again, resolve flooding through her veins. When she spoke again, her voice was much more calm than before. "Percy, I need you to look at me." She said.

He didn't stop shaking. Annabeth repeated her request over and over again, gaining traction over time. Perhaps it was her tone, or the fact that he was finally calming down. Either way, Annabeth slowly scooted closer as his eyes began to unscrew themselves. She let out a shaky breath when she saw his eyes.

Hollow. Shattered. His big, green eyes that usually resembled fire were now completely put out. Her breath hitched when she saw that he wasn't looking at her so much as past her. His gaze was off to the side, unfocused. Tears still silently ran down his cheeks. Annabeth took a deep breath before continuing. "Percy, look at me." She said. She had to repeat it again before he looked her in the eye.

"Focus on me. I want you to look at me." She said. Suddenly, a technique for calming down pregnancy stress came to her mind. She squeezed his hands carefully, and he squeezed back, albeit faintly. "Breath with me." She said, taking deep breaths through her nose and letting them out through her mouth. Percy tried, but began to gasp again as his eyes widened in panic. Before he could slip away from her, Annabeth leaned forward until their foreheads almost touched. "Breath with me." She repeated.

This time, he did better. His tears began to slow, and then stop altogether by the time his breathing was even again. Annabeth sighed lightly, her breath fanning over his face. Percy was still trembling, but at least he seemed more in control. Annabeth began to loosen her grip on his hands, but he immediately held on tighter. Annabeth gave him what she hoped to be a reassuring look.

"I'm not going anywhere." She said, truth ringing in her words. Percy, eyes still wide, began to relax as she let go. However, instead of pulling away, she ran her hands up his arms, to his shoulders. Her fingers traced against his shirt, around his collar bone, up into his scalp, and back down again. Percy bit down on his lip when she grazed his side, but she made sure to keep eye contact with him during the entire encounter.

It took a few minutes for Percy to respond in kind. Her hands had rested against his hips, wishing again that her belly wasn't in the way so she could pull herself closer. His hands gently grasped her wrists, putting them together and guiding her until she was lying next to him again. They faced one another this time, her stomach pressed against his. He shivered when her hand settled against the wound again.

The silence was thick enough that it seemed to press down on the two of them as the seconds passed. Annabeth nestled further into her pillow. Percy's arm was under her neck, the pulse of his wrist pressed against the pulse in her neck. When she did speak, her voice was much less self assured than before.

"You were being stabbed again, weren't you?" She asked. She felt his heartbeat skip, and he nodded above her line of sight. She already knew the answer, so it didn't really matter. "And you haven't slept all night because you knew this might happen?" She asked, this question more of a theory she wanted disproven. Sadly, Percy nodded again.

Annabeth felt the lump in her throat again. She swallowed it down, pressing her left hand against his heart. She wanted to feel this answer, more than she wanted to hear it. "How long has this been happening?" She asked, her voice a whisper. His heart made a dull _thump-thump_ every few seconds, barely missing a beat.

When he spoke, his voice was rough and scratchy. She nearly winced at the sound. "A few nights now." He said, the silence immediately moving in to take over the lull in the conversation. Annabeth nodded against his chest, her hand fisting the fabric of his shirt.

"Did you sleep at _all_ last night?" She asked. He shook his head. She looked up at him then, her eyes searching his own. The bruises, even in the dark, were becoming more prominent after each passing second. His eyes were still strained, but under her gaze they softened exponentially.

She leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. They barely brushed, and his were chapped, but Annabeth could care less when she felt his shoulders relax. His eyes closed, as well as hers, and she heard him sigh against her lips. His hand, the one under her neck, twisted until he was cupping her cheek, pulling her closer. Annabeth eventually stopped kissing, but they didn't pull away.

"You aren't leaving this bed until you get a full eight hours." She muttered, her eyes already closing again. Percy was following right behind her, too tired to complain vocally. Instead, he made a face, though it was a half-hearted gesture. Instead, he suddenly pulled her to him and pecked her quickly on the lips. A small rush of emotion lodged itself in Annabeth's throat, forcing her to open her eyes.

Almost immediately, she was watching as his eyes closed. His heartbeat changed nearly instantaneously from dull thuds to smooth, consistent bumps. Her eyes searched his face, softening when she saw just how peaceful he looked. Without the stress, the pain, or the worry lines that constantly seemed to harden his features, he looked innocent. He looked like her brothers.

Annabeth's heart skipped a beat when his next exhale seemed to be semi-coherent. For just one moment, Annabeth heard his voice, soft and muffled by layers of sleep. She was almost certain she heard him say " _I love you."_

Annabeth searched his eyes, though they were closed. She tried to judge if he was actually awake, feeling his breath fan her face and probing his chest with her fingertips. She gulped, a few tears forming in her eyes as she took a shaky breath. Her smile was much too wide for someone trying to sleep.

Her voice wasn't even audible to her own ears. Barely qualifying as a whisper, she replied.

"I love you, too."


End file.
